Till Death Do We Part
by This Ren
Summary: In the wake of a devastating diagnosis, Tony juggles impending fatherhood with a fear that he may never get the chance to know his child. T/G slash and Tabby friendship.
1. Chapter 1: Finding Out

**Disclaimer**: I don't own NCIS...or anything related to NCIS...or anything at all, so don't sue me, because I'm broke.

**A/N**: A story...exciting. I haven't uploaded anything in years, but it's time to get back on the wagon. This is my first NCIS fic, so please be kind while reading it. Just a few things before we begin:

**1**) This will be slash. Tony/Gibbs to be precise. If you don't like that, don't read it. There's really no point in wasting your time getting hot and bothered by something I warned you about in the beginning, and no, you can't change my mind.

**2**) While it may not seem like slash in the beginning, I can assure you it will be. I like writing and reading slash stories.

**3**) There may be some Tabby in there, but don't expect any Tiva. I'm not a fan.

**4**) Don't ask me what he's suffering from, and don't question why science can't help him. I'm not a doctor (yet), and that's not the point of the story. The story is about how he adapts and changes his life because of the ailment that's afflicting him, not the medical stuff.

**5**) There's no number 5. I just like rounded out numbers.

**Chapter One**

**Finding Out**

It was the result he'd been dreading. The result that terrified him. The result that threatened to overwhelm him with so much emotion he wasn't sure he'd be able to drive to work with his head on straight. Since the brain scan the previous week, and the doctor calling him in to review the results two days prior, he'd been nervous about what the doctor was going to say. Was it good news? Was it bad news? It was bad news, and while he'd been preparing for the worst, actually knowing about it was almost too much for him to bear. At least before he'd walked into that bare little room that smelled like antiseptic he could pretend that nothing was wrong.

"There's no treatment?" He asked the question even though he already knew what the answer was going to be.

"I'm afraid not," Dr. Bayler replied solemnly. "It's too deep in the brain for a surgical treatment, and drugs would be ineffective."

"What can I do then?" Tony wondered, gripping the end of his tie tightly between his fingers. "What are my options?"

"We can run more tests, do more scans, but honestly, in my professional opinion, the best thing for you to do now is go home," Dr. Bayler said. "I don't see the point in putting you through endless tests that are just going to tell us the same things. Eventually the weakened artery is going to burst from the pressure, and there aren't any medications that can stop that."

"I just have to wait to die then." It wasn't a question, and it sounded so final on his tongue that it scared him.

"I'm sorry, Tony," Dr. Bayler sighed, standing up from the round swiveling chair that all doctors seemed to have in their exam rooms. "You can stay here as long as you need to. I'll let the ladies up front know not to interrupt."

They shook hands as Tony said, "its fine. I've got to head into work anyway. The boss is going to start wondering where I am."

He didn't let the doctor say anything else before he brushed passed him and hurried down the hallway. He felt like everybody was staring at him as he made for the exit and across the parking lot. It was as if somebody had put a neon sign above his head declaring he was a medical impossibility- that he was waiting for death to claim him at any moment.

Settling into his car, work as the last place he wanted to be. With Ziva and McGee and Gibbs staring at him and wondering when he was going to keel over. He wondered if Gibbs would even continue to let him work. Probably not, so he'd do what he had to. He wouldn't tell them. It would be easier for everybody that way. Maybe he'd tell Abby and swear her to secrecy. After all, he did tell Abby everything. He couldn't honestly hide the most important thing in his life from her.

He called McGee, finding it easier to lie to the younger agent than it was to lie to Gibbs or Ziva. Work hadn't started yet, but it was better to call in early than call in late. He hadn't told anybody about the appointment with his doctor, and he wasn't going to. He told McGee he had food poisoning from some spoilt sushi the night before and was contemplating going to the ER for treatment. McGee had accepted the excuse without complaint and assured him he'd tell Gibbs he'd be in on Monday morning.

Going home was out of the question. He didn't want to sit in his dark apartment all day doing nothing but watching movies and munching on snacks. He did that plenty, and it didn't seem fitting. He'd just been told he was going to die- that he could die at any minute- and sitting around watching television was only going to give him the opportunity to dwell.

Tony needed to get out and do something. He needed to. It wasn't like he was unhealthy, perhaps he'd go the gym. Maybe he'd catch a flight to New York, do a little shopping and come home Sunday evening to show off his new purchases to Abby. Maybe he'd call Abby and persuade her to play hooky with him. They were always talking about doing such a thing. They could take a road trip to the beach- it was freezing cold in the beginning of February, but who cared? They could bundle and have a picnic lunch and come home to do crazy things that night.

His phone was at his ear before he even knew that he'd pressed Abby's speed dial and the phone was ringing in his ear. She answered on the third ring in all of her bubbly, exuberant glory, and just hearing her voice made him smile. For a best friend, she was the best a guy could ask for.

"Tony!" She squealed as a greeting.

"Play hooky with me," he begged her in response. "Let's go to the beach."

It was too easy to persuade her it was a good idea. She'd yet to leave for work, and it was a simple phone call to get somebody to cover for her, insisting that she'd shared some of Tony's sushi and was feeling too poorly to come into work. She'd called him back laughing, and he promised he'd pick her up in an hour for their day of fun.


	2. Chapter 2: The Beach

**Disclaimer**: I don't own NCIS...or anything affiliated with NCIS...or anything at all, so don't sue me. I'm broke.

**A/N**: These are short chapters, but they'll get longer.

**Chapter Two**

**The Beach**

The beach was even colder than Tony had thought it was going to be. They had to layer on the clothes before they stepped out of Tony's car and headed down the sandy beach towards the water. He carried the full-to-bursting picnic basket and she carried the checked blanket draped over her arm. The wind whipped their hair around their faces, stinging their cheeks and freezing their noses, but neither of them cared enough to turn back.

They set up their picnic blanket and dropped the basket between them before settling down to watch the waves, hoping the wind was ease as the day wore on. For a long while they joked and talked while watching the waves, and Tony could help but let the stress from that morning's doctor visit leave him. Abby always knew how to make him feel better. She always knew what he needed to hear, even if she didn't know the whole problem.

When noon had hit, the day got warmer, and the wind lost some of its strength. They were able to peel off a couple of layers before they headed for a short walk along the water's edge. They danced and played as the surf tickled their feet, laughing all the while as they tried to avoid the freezing foam that threatened their bare feet.

Lunch was a casual affair. The sandwiches, while simple, were delicious, and the fruit made his mouth water the moment the glass containers were in sight. Abby knew how to pack the best picnics, and days at the beach were always more fun with her than with anybody else. There was a reason Abby was his best friend- the person he was closest too. He had more fun with her doing nothing than doing the most exciting things with anybody else. It was just an Abby and Tony thing. Nothing else could compare.

"So what's going on?" Abby asked at three, when they'd returned to the blanket soaking wet from a rousing fight in the shallows.

He was silent as he contemplated how to tell her the awful news. She wasn't going to take it well.

"Is everything alright, Tony?" Abby wondered, pushing the basket out the way and scooting closer to him, pulling a towel tightly around her shoulders to drive away the wind that was again picking up.

"I'm dying," he finally spit out.

"What?" She demanded, her green eyes growing large at his blunt words.

"I've got this ticking time bomb in my head," he explained. "The doctors say it's only a matter of time."

"Like cancer?" Her lip was quivering with emotion.

"No. I'm not sick," he shook his head. "It's just this thing in my head. It's literally a time bomb. Eventually the pressure will get to great, and the artery walls will get too weak and it'll rupture."

"What are the doctors going to do about it?" Abby demanded.

"There's nothing they can do about it. It's a congenital defect," Tony said.

He wouldn't let it put a damper on the rest of their day. Though Abby became hesitant about the beach and even suggested going home, Tony adamantly refused to leave the place they'd made their days paradise. He was fine, he assured her. Being out wasn't going to kill him. There was no point in turning in when he felt fine. Though the prognosis of his condition was at the back of their minds constantly, they went about trying to make their day of hooky the best day it could be.

They left the beach at six, both soaked and covered in sand. Tony ignored the fact that his car was filthy, not letting it ruin their day. They pulled into a little mom and pop diner off the freeway for dinner and joked about all the people who sat round them while they ate their burgers and fries.

"Today was great," Abby smiled when Tony pulled up in front of her apartment and turned the car off.

"It was," Tony agreed with a smile. "We should do this more often."

Abby giggled at the thought of fooling Gibbs again before she pulled Tony into a tight embrace. Things were going to change. They both knew that there was no way around it, but it didn't mean that they were going to dwell on it. They'd come to an agreement on that beach as they both tried to absorb the diagnosis. They would make the most of what time he had left, and they wouldn't let fear take away their fun. The only thing that bothered Tony more than dying, was the pity that accompanied it. Abby promised to keep her mouth shut, and Tony would tell the others when he was ready for them to know.


	3. Chapter 3: Bad Memories

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS...or anything having to do with NCIS...or anything at all, so don't sue me. I'm broke.

**A/N: **Thanks to everybody who reviewed, or added this story to their alerts and favorites. Somebody asked me how often I'd update this story, so I thought I'd share that with everybody. I'll update at least once a week, perhaps even twice a week, depending on life (I do have a pretty busy schedule between work and school and familial obligations). I have no set schedule for updating, so don't expect a chapter every Friday or Sunday.

**Also**, this is another very depressing chapter. Not all chapters will be depressing, but as you can tell from the beginning, a lot of them will be. It's a very sad story...If you want something happy and fluffy, this is not what you're looking for.

**Chapter Three**

**Bad Memories**

That night, sitting on his couch with a late night infomercial playing on the TV instead of one of his usual movies, Tony stared at the blank wall across the apartment. He couldn't sleep. There was too much on his mind. Would he wake up in the morning? Would there be a morning for him? A tomorrow? A next week? It was impossible to tell when his time would be up, and it was unsettling. There was a chance he could live for years, though it was doubtful he'd live a decade. There was also a chance he could die in the next second. It wasn't fair.

Thoughts of his imminent doom sparked thoughts of his mother. His beautiful mother. The day she died was burned into his mind like a fire ripping through his brain, and try as he might, there was no way he could get rid of the memory.

Things had been different then. A lot different. They'd been a happy family. His father would come home from the office at a decent hour and kiss his wife on the cheek before ruffling a young Tony's hair. He'd bring presents home for him after business trips and spend time with him during weekends. They'd go fishing in the pond on the back portion of their land, and his mother would meet them out on the back porch at lunch time with sandwiches and fresh squeezed lemonade. She'd cook the fish they brought in for dinner, and they'd spend the meal talking about life and simple things.

He remembered knowing that something was wrong that morning when he'd gotten out of bed, but his eight year old mind couldn't process what exactly it was. He'd descended the stairs in his plaid flannel pajamas to find his mother singing while she made French toast in the kitchen. He'd hugged her before climbing up into his usual chair and waiting for his dad to come downstairs and the meal to be served.

He was a momma's boy. He did everything she asked of him, and did what he knew would make her happy. She wasn't happy when he misbehaved, so he always used his best manners and spoke like the little gentleman that he was. He wanted to be the best son he possibly could be, and it always made her smile that beautiful smile she saved just for him.

They sat at the piano after breakfast. She had corrected the position of his hands and helped him with the keys. She'd complimented each of his tries, even when he made a mistake and had to start over. He loved the piano just because it was their special time together. After the piano she would take him to school, and they wouldn't see each other again until that afternoon, when he would have to do his homework, and she would busy herself with one of her sewing projects before dad got home and took all of her attention away from him. At bedtime both of his parents would tuck him into bed and tell him a story before his father whisked her away from him to their own bedroom and Tony was left alone to sleep.

It was how life went on a typical day, and Tony thought he was the luckiest boy in the world, with the best parents in the world, and the greatest life in the world. That was back before everything changed, though.

Saturdays he usually went fishing with his dad. That morning was no different. They'd waved goodbye to his mother, who stood on the porch as they headed down the trail in their matching fishing vests and poles. His gut was still churning with unease as the morning passed, but he tried to ignore it. Today was a good day. Today was a great day. They caught more fish than ever before.

His mother wasn't waiting on the porch with their lunch when they came up the trail at noon, but Tony wasn't worried. Sometimes she waited for them to come inside and they would help her carry the plates to the small table on the porch. Tony hurried ahead of his dad, his little line of fish displayed happily in his small hands and a smile on his face. He raced through the doors with more excitement than he'd ever felt before, eager to show his mom his prize, forgetting for the moment the bad feeling he'd woken up with.

It all came back the moment he stepped into the kitchen, and he froze. She was laying on the kitchen floor, in front of the sink. His young brain had been unable to comprehend what he was seeing then, and he approached her with slow steps, part of him knowing she wasn't sleeping, and the other part wondering why she was sleeping on the kitchen floor.

He put his fish in the sink, where he always put his fish, before kneeling down beside her. Her face looked peaceful, like she was just sleeping, but her skin was cold, and gray compared to her white summer dress. He shoved on her shoulder, hoping it would wake her up, but she didn't move, and fear curled in his stomach.

Senior arrived only a few minutes after he did, and the moment he joined them in the room his line of fish slipped from his hand to the tiled floor. For a brief second, Tony considered telling his father that the fish had fallen to the floor, its sickening wet thud against the tile reverberating through his brain, but then his father had crossed the room and was kneeling beside his wife, pulling her to his chest and cradling her against his body.

It was the first and the only time Tony had ever seen his father cry, and it scared him. What was going on? What had happened to his mother? They needed to do something, to call somebody. Who could fix this? The doctor? Tony suggested it, and his father looked up at him as if just realizing that he existed and was there watching them. It was like a switch had flipped in Senior's brain, and everything changed. He wiped his tears away with the back of his hand, gently laid his wife back on the floor, and stood up, instructing Tony to go to his room while he handled things.

Tony remembered how days had passed before they'd known what had happened to his mother, and it was a torturous two days. His father barely came out of his study, and extended family arrived. His aunt was nice- his mother's sister-in-law- but she wasn't his mother, and he rebuffed her kindness. He wanted his mother to come home, to come back. They had taken her away to fix her, so why hadn't she come back yet? Was she at the hospital getting better? His aunt and uncle refused to answer his questions, and the look they shared between them whenever Tony brought it up only made him angry. She was _his_ mother! Why wasn't anybody telling him anything?

He was sitting on his bed, in his big bedroom, when his father came in on that second day. He'd never seen his father look so awkward, like he had no idea how to act around his son. Senior had sat beside him on the bed and patted his arm before explaining to him that his mother wasn't coming home. At the time he'd been too young to understand the words his father used explaining what had happened- if you'd asked him afterwards he would have told you that her brain exploded- but he did understand what dead meant. She was gone, and she wasn't coming back.

Everything had changed in his life after that. His father buried himself in his work, and Tony was lucky if he ever got to see him. When the extended family had left after the funeral, a nanny had come in to care for him. Whenever he mentioned his mother, he was scolded and told not to dwell on the past. When his father caught him crying, he was called weak and told DiNozzo's don't cry. He'd tried his best after that, masking his sadness with a bright smile and a jovial attitude that became natural to him after so long.

Coming out of the memory, Tony sat up and ran a hand down his face. With a bitter laugh, he realized that at least he wouldn't be like his mother. Having no children meant that they wouldn't find him dead on the floor when his time came. Nobody would have to suffer through what he and his father had because of his death.


	4. Chapter 4: Unsettling Normalcy

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS...or anything having to do with NCIS...or anything at all, so don't sue me. I'm broke.

**A/N: **To celebrate my writers block, I've decided to update. Yay? Oh well, what's bad for me, seems to be good for you. Also, just to point out, this story does not revolve around a case. It's about Tony's and some other characters personal lives. There will be cases, but they aren't the main focus over this story.

**Also**, I know I'm rubbish at writing about the team working cases. If things seem out of character, it's because I'm better at writing individual and one-on-one interaction.

**Finally**, this chapter may not be as depressing as some of the previous chapters or the next chapter, but I want to convey how much of a roller coaster his emotions are on right now as he struggles to figure out how he's supposed to live his life.

**Chapter Four**

**Unsettling Normalcy**

Monday morning dawned bright, sunny, and freezing cold. Tony went for his usual morning jog, but quit after only a mile, feeling like his lungs were being stabbed with needles every time he took a breath. He cursed the woman who had given him the plague as he headed home at a walk. Running helped him settle his mind, and if there was one thing he needed to do right then, running was it.

After Friday night he'd refused to stay home alone. He couldn't have been more thankful that the team was off rotation, because it meant he could take off for the weekend without worrying about getting called in for work. Abby had proposed that trip to New York he'd been thinking about, and they'd gone. It had been great not having the time to let his mind wander into that depressing place he'd been in on Friday night. Between shopping, eating at high end restaurants and sightseeing (even though they'd both been to the city on so many occasions that sightseeing was a moot-point), there had been no time to think about anything but what they were doing at that moment.

As great as it had been, Tony now had to deal with the consequences. He couldn't call into work again- Gibbs really wouldn't stand for it unless he was on his death bed, and he really wasn't in the mood to deal with an angry Gibbs, even if he did think it was hot as hell when the older man was yelling. What was he going to say to the team anyway? While Abby had promised not to tell a soul, she'd told him that he should tell them, and Tony had agreed with her. What if he dropped dead at work? Shouldn't his team be prepared for the possibility? It had been Abby who said that, and he couldn't say that she was wrong. He had no idea how he would break the news to them, and he couldn't help but indulge in the part of his brain that said he should keep them in the dark for a while longer.

What was going to happen when he told them? Would Gibbs still want him on the team? Tony wasn't sure if he'd be allowed to stay with his imminent death hanging over his head. The thought of not being able to work anymore disturbed him. He loved his job. He loved his team. He loved putting away the bad guy. He loved getting justice for those people who were harmed. He loved looking across the bullpen at Gibbs when the older man wasn't looking.

He swatted away thoughts of Gibbs. It was ridiculous to dwell on him. That was one relationship that would never work out- they'd tried. They'd started a relationship while Tony was still in Baltimore, but working together, though it had seemed like a good idea at the time, had proven to be too much for their relationship to handle. It didn't mean Tony didn't think about the could have's and possibilities.

Tony had embraced his sexual orientation years ago, and also the implications that came with it. Keeping it a secret gave him job security. Aside from Gibbs, Abby was the only person at NCIS who actually knew, and that was only because he spent so much time outside of work with her. He didn't see why any of the others needed to know, anyway.

After a quick shower, Tony got ready for work, taking his usual time in getting ready. He was in no rush. He'd been unable to sleep the night before on the plane back from New York, and when he'd gotten home at three, he'd found no point in going to bed. What was he going to do there that wouldn't depress him? He'd watched a movie instead, focusing on the content instead of on his thoughts. It hadn't even been five when he went out on his run, and that hadn't lasted for very long. The shower had felt nice, and he'd stayed in there for a few extra minutes, but now he had over an hour before he needed to be at work, and he was entirely ready.

There really was no point in staying at his apartment, so he headed out. The car wash wasn't far from his apartment, and the lot was pretty much empty when he pulled in. It wasn't a surprise to him. Who in their right mind went to the car wash at such an ungodly hour? He usually wasn't one of them.

He was meticulous in getting every speck of sand off the floor and seats with the high suction vacuum before he drove the car through the automated wash. He came out the other side feeling a little better at having his car back in tip-top shape, and he rode along on that feeling all the way to the doughnut shop not far from the Navy Yard.

McGee and Ziva made it quite clear that they were unhappy with his absence on Friday, but Tony simply went about his arrival routine without paying them much mind. He checked his e-mails, which had piled up over the long weekend, and indulged in his favorite raspberry filled doughnut as he waited for the boss to arrive. Cleaning his car had put him in a good mood that he wasn't going to let go of without a fight.

When Abby bounced into the bullpen complaining about how her fill-in had messed up stuff in her lab, Tony had laughed at her and promised not to share his sushi anymore. That was when Gibbs decided to arrive, and Tony mentally berated himself for the skip in his heartbeat at the older man's appearance. The boss had sent Abby on her way before settling at his desk, but things were only quiet for a few minutes. The ringing of Gibbs telephone had Tony prepared to be ready, and he wasn't disappointed. As Gibbs announced that they had a body, Tony had already grabbed his pack and was on his way towards the elevator before anybody else. He saw the look Ziva and McGee gave each other, but chose to ignore it. Their curiosity was not his problem.

"You are in a good mood," Ziva pointed out an hour later as she snapped pictures while Tony sketched the crime scene- the bedroom of deceased Petty Office Oliver Jameson.

"Is there a reason why I shouldn't be?" Tony tossed back at her.

"You just seem awfully cheerful for a man who was supposed to be home in bed all weekend with food poisoning," Ziva clarified.

"I'm feeling much better," he shot a grin at her.

"You and Abby both," McGee joined the conversation.

"What are you implying, McJealous?" Tony asked.

"I'm not jealous," McGee protested.

Tony cocked an eyebrow at him before returning his attention to the sketches. This banter, this every day normalness, was strange. Hadn't his world just collapsed around him? Hadn't he just found out his life was over? He should not be feeling like everything was just the same as it always had been, because it wasn't. This realization was enough to eliminate his good mood, but he kept his mask in place. He didn't need Ziva and McGee to get any more curious than they already were. It would be a nightmare if Gibbs had found out he didn't actually have food poisoning…

"What have you got?" Gibbs voice cut across Tony's depressed thoughts, and he immediately tuned into the conversation. He needed to stay focused on the work. His personal problems were to be left at home.

"Time of death was approximately 4 hours ago," Ducky responded as he returned the liver thermometer to his bag. "There is a gunshot wound to his front temporal lobe."

"That the cause of death?" Gibbs questioned, moving to stand beside Tony to get a better look at the wound.

"It would appear so, but I'll give you a definitive answer after an autopsy," Ducky answered.

Tony snapped focus off of Gibbs and the aroma of coffee when Palmer wheeled the gurney in to collect the body and the team leader moved out of the way. Oh, how he loved the smell of Gibbs coffee, even if he couldn't handle the black stuff himself.

"Boss," McGee announced, and every eye in the room turned to look at him.

McGee was pointing to something beneath the bed, beside Ducky, and Tony hurried to check it out and include it in the sketch. Lying just beneath the bed skirt was a shiny black revolver. Ziva snapped a couple of pictures while Tony marked it on his sketchpad, and then McGee had picked it up with his gloved hands and dropped it into the evidence bag Gibbs was holding out. This case was looking pretty easy so far. It wasn't often they were left with the murder weapon.

* * *

**So? How much did I butcher it? Let me know in a review! **

**P.S.- The next chapter may feature a little bit of one-on-one between Tony and Gibbs...just saying...**


	5. Chapter 5: Lunch with Gibbs

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS...or anything having to do with NCIS...or anything at all, so don't sue me. I'm broke.

**A/N:** I'm still suffering from writers block, but luckily I have the next few chapters already written, so don't worry about it. I'm sure by the time I post chapter 9 I'll have come up with something...

**Chapter Five**

**Lunch With Gibbs**

Lunch came all too soon, and before Tony could slip out the door to avoid Abby, who had called and asked him to have lunch with her, he was accosted by Gibbs. He didn't know what surprised him more- Gibbs leaving the office for lunch, or Gibbs wanting to have lunch with him. In the years after they'd stopped seeing each other, they'd continued a tentative friendship and working relationship, but that usually involved a late night with beer and steak and a little bit of talk about a case. What could Gibbs possibly want from him during lunch?

He'd had no choice but to agree, and by the time they'd gotten to the restaurant Tony wasn't sure he was still hungry. He never had been fond of the bosses driving. He followed Gibbs into the small deli with a slightly queasy stomach, and allowed Gibbs to order his usual pastrami sandwich while he snagged them a table in the corner. There were a number of other diners, but it was relatively quiet. Why Gibbs had taken him here, of all places, was beyond him. They hadn't been here together since they'd called it quits.

"Is there something you wanted to talk about?" Tony asked when Gibbs arrived at the table with their sandwiches, setting Tony's in front of him before he took the seat across the booth.

Gibbs ignored him, taking a large bite of his ham and cheese as an excuse to keep his mouth shut. Tony watched him for a little while before he began to eat as well. Something was nagging at him, telling him that whatever Gibbs brought him here to say wasn't going to be something he liked very much. He was halfway through his sandwich before Gibbs set his aside and fixed him with a stare that had Tony squirming in the red vinyl bench of the booth he'd chosen.

"What's been going on with you?" Gibbs asked.

"What do you mean?" Tony wondered, staring at the sandwich in his hands instead of at the man in front of him.

"You and Abby don't play hooky unless something's on your mind," Gibbs pointed out.

He should have realized that Gibbs would know. Gibbs always knew.

"We had food poisoning. Ate bad sushi at the place we tried in Georgetown," Tony tried to lie anyway.

"Last time you played hooky, it was when Abby's father died," Gibbs said, as if Tony hadn't just insulted his intelligence. "You used the same excuse."

Tony didn't respond. He knew when he was losing a battle that never had the possibility of success. Gibbs knew him to well, and Tony was starting to think Abby might be right- the guy was too dead on to _not_ have psychic powers.

"What's been going on, Tony?" Gibbs prodded.

"It's nothing," Tony tried to assure him, but his voice sounded strangled.

"If it were nothing, you would have come to work. Do I have to ask Abby?" Tony knew Abby wouldn't say anything, but he still groaned. "Come on, Tony. Tell me."

"I don't want to talk about it," Tony finally admitted. "Later. Right now…I just don't want to talk about it."

He didn't think that Gibbs would accept that. After all, this was Gibbs, but the older man let the subject drop, and they both resumed eating their lunch as if nothing had ever happened.

The ride back to the Navy Yard was unpleasant, but Tony managed not to toss his cookies before they pulled into Gibb's usual spot in the parking lot. Before he could get out the vehicle and kiss the asphalt below it, he was stopped by Gibbs voice.

"I won't look the other way next time you feel like taking the day off," Gibbs warned him, his tone indicating that he wasn't just saying it to be the responsible boss.

"Got ya, Boss," Tony nodded, managing to push open the door before he was stopped again.

"When you decide you want to talk, my doors unlocked," Gibbs said quietly.

"I know, Jethro," Tony nodded, before he was out of the car and closing the door behind him.

He didn't go back to work. There was still half an hour of his lunch break left, and he didn't feel like wasting it by sitting at his desk working. Just for a little while he needed to have some alone time. He couldn't ignore his thoughts forever, and with Gibbs breathing down his neck, he wasn't going to get any kind of privacy in the building.

There was a bench just next to a coffee kiosk not far from the NCIS building, and Tony sat on it, reflecting on things from his past. This new health problem was not the first thing that had hit him hard in the last few years, and it wouldn't be the last, but it did threaten to overwhelm him unlike anything else had. This wasn't something he could fight, and he definitely didn't think it was something he could accept. He could accept getting shot, or blown up, or killed by the plague, but not something like this. Not something that couldn't be prevented or changed or pinpointed down to an exact date and time.

His life had been one hardship after another. From his father's emotional abandonment as a child, and his mother's early death, he could barely remember a time when he lived a carefree existence. He'd left Peoria when his partner had found out he was gay, and that had not been pretty. He'd left Philly for Baltimore when the boss had asked for his resignation after his partner botched an investigation and an innocent victim had ended up dead. He'd left Baltimore for NCIS after he'd failed to convince that kid that jumping off a building was not the way to go. Gibbs had had to convince him not to leave NCIS when they'd broken up.

That break up had to be one of the worst Tony had gone through. It wasn't that their relationship had ended on bad terms, because it really hadn't. They had mutually decided that working together had placed too much strain on their relationship at home and it was in their best interest to part ways. They'd been together for nearly three years at that point. There had been no fighting, or anger, or misunderstandings in their decision, but it had still hurt more than any other break up had ever hurt before. He'd never been as serious with anybody before, and he'd never been serious with anybody after- after all, he really couldn't count Jeanne.

Of course, they'd hooked up several times after the break up. It wasn't as if they stopped caring for one another, but they had just been one night stands, and they both knew that nothing was ever going to come of it. They'd stayed together after Kate died, after Gibbs had shot Lee, when they got back from Israel without Ziva. The nights they needed each other the most they stayed together, and it always made Tony feel better. Gibbs couldn't make him feel better this time though, because when dawn broke and they went their separate ways, Tony's anxiety would come back. No amount of sex could ever change that. Nothing could change the inevitable outcome of the time bomb in his brain.

He considered the fact that sitting around waiting for death to take him wasn't his only option. He was going to die anyway, so why wait? What was in it for him? Nothing was going to change between then and whenever he died. What could possibly change? He'd resigned himself to the fact that he would die alone the moment the doctor had given him the results of his brain scan. He was going to die, and when that time came, he'd have nothing to show for it. If that was what his life was going to be like, what was the point of sticking around?

Why, he wondered, should he wait around for the inevitable to happen when it wasn't going to change anything? Why let people get used to his presence, form more friendships, and take on more responsibilities when at any moment he could die? Sure, the people who knew and relied on him now would be upset, but they would get over it. Wouldn't it be mean to give them a few more years to get used to him being there and then up and die?

* * *

**A/N: **So don't kill me. I never said he was actually going to tell Gibbs in this chapter, just that they were going to have a talk. Gibbs had to open the door to the more serious conversation they will eventually be having so Tony know he can talk to him.


	6. Chapter 6: Change of Thinking

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS...or anything having to do with NCIS...or anything at all, so don't sue me. I'm broke.

**Something to take into consideration:** I am only going to say this one more time. If you don't like this story because it's slash, or it's too depressing, or you just don't like it, don't waste your time reading it. Don't waste your time posting anonymous reviews on every chapter about how you don't like my writing. All you're doing is wasting your time, and my time by making me read your pathetic ramblings. This being said, if you have something nice to say, or constructive criticism, or any suggestions, please feel free to leave me a review. I love reviews. If you're going to be a douchebag, either grow a back bone and sign in, or keep your opinions to yourself, as I'll just delete them.

**Now that I've ranted,** lets get on to the story.

**Chapter Six**

**Change of Thinking**

The afternoon dragged by slowly. They spoke with Petty Office Jameson's family and friends and tried to create a theory for his murder. The murder weapon had been sent down to Abby for prints and analysis, and Ducky was still working the autopsy, probably regaling Palmer with some long winded tale that had nothing to do with their case. The long wait for information was slowly threatening to drive Tony crazy.

Ziva and McGee had taken to giving him strange looks before they'd left the office to interview the Petty Officers CO, and Gibbs was ignoring him, as if their earlier conversation had not happened. Tony was biding his time, waiting to go home and get away from everything.

He wondered if he should hand in his resignation. Would it make any difference if he quit his job before he died? Would his coworkers be so upset with his lack of professionalism that they wouldn't care when his life was over? Ultimately he decided that to quit his job would be a huge mistake. He didn't want anybody to hate him when he died- he just wanted them to not hurt so badly, and pissing them off first wasn't going to achieve the desired result. Maybe he'd just tell Gibbs not to expect him back, than when he didn't come to work in the morning, it wouldn't be like a slap to the face.

He was about to open his mouth and say something to the silent Gibbs across the bullpen, but the ringing of a telephone stopped him, and Gibbs bark into the receiver on his desk told him that he wasn't going to be saying anything to Gibbs anytime soon. They were needed down in Abby's lab. She had something for them.

Tony followed Gibbs into the elevator, trying to focus on the case through the entire ride. Being in such confined quarters with Gibbs was almost torture. Gibbs nearness and scent threatened to overwhelm him. It was the same feeling he'd always gotten when he had to spend time with Gibbs after their break up so many years before- longing and desire for one of those callused hands to take one of his, for those soft lips to press against his own…he had to force those desires away as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open on their floor. He and Gibbs were done, and his life was just about over. He was only torturing himself by thinking about things that would never happen.

"What have ya got, Abs?" Gibbs asked when he'd turned the music off in her lab, drawing her attention.

Tony dropped onto a stool beside where Abby was working and wrapped an arm around her waist. He couldn't do that with Gibbs, but he could with his best friend, and she wouldn't try to kill him for it. He really just needed to touch somebody then, to ground himself- remind him that he still had a few hours of life left.

"The only finger prints on this gun are Petty Officer Jameson's," Abby announced, motioning towards the gun on the lab table in front of him. "And I can say that it was the weapon that killed him. His DNA is on the barrel."

"Good job, Abs," Gibbs complimented her, pressing a kiss to her cheek before he grabbed the back of Tony's collar and forced him off the stool to follow him.

Tony yelped in shock at the unexpected move, and called goodbye to Abby as he was tugged out of the room. In the elevator Gibbs released his grasp, and Tony rubbed his neck where the fabric of his shirt had pulled at him, a little perturbed. The boss could have told him it was time go.

"What was that for?" Tony demanded as they rode the elevator in silence.

"You and Abby are getting to familiar," Gibbs grunted in response.

"We're friends," Tony pointed out.

"You're at work. Act professional," Gibbs admonished him, and Tony sighed.

He and Abby were usually pretty touchy feely unless McGee was around- McGee spent too much time ogling after Abby to see their friendship as only friendship, and neither were going to make a big deal out of anything with McGee. The misunderstanding was not one they were interested in fixing. Gibbs usually didn't have a problem with it unless he was in a foul mood, though Tony couldn't begin to imagine why the boss was in such a bad mood that day. He'd seemed fine when they got back from lunch- a bit irritated, but not pissed off.

"Jethro, I was just about to call you," Ducky said by way of greeting when they walked into autopsy a few moments after the elevator stopped.

"What'd you find?" Gibbs asked stopping beside the body still on the table while Ducky approached from looking at some X-Rays on the light box across the room.

"There is gunshot powder on his left hand," Ducky began, motioning towards the Petty Officers appendage. "The wound itself seems to indicate that the gunshot was self-inflicted."

"Jameson killed himself?" Tony asked, his heart nearly dropping into his stomach. "There was no note."

"Yes, there was," Ziva said as she and McGee arrived in Autopsy at that exact moment, holding an evidence bag in her hand.

"He left it in his desk at work. We found it while we were going through his stuff. He apologizes profusely for hurting anybody, says he couldn't wait around to waste away, and that suicide was his only choice," McGee explained.

"He had terminal cancer," Ducky captured all of their attention. "I found it during the autopsy. Even if he'd had treatment, it was too far advanced for any kind of positive result. I took the liberty of calling for his medical records. He was diagnosed three months ago, underwent a round of chemotherapy that failed to eliminate the cancer, and forewent anymore. The doctors gave him no more than a year to live."

~NCIS~

Tony stared down at the body of Petty Officer Jameson later that evening. Ducky had already left for the night, taking Palmer with him, and he'd come down right after finishing his report. The team had left already, but Tony had lagged behind, taking his time filling out his report. He didn't print it out until Gibbs had left the bullpen, and after he'd dropped the folder on his bosses desk, he made his way down to autopsy.

He and Petty Officer Jameson were in the same boat. He'd gotten the same news that Tony had- there was no hope. There was something inside of him that was going to take his life and there was no way around it. Jameson had waited to die, just like he had, before he'd had enough. Tired of waiting, Jameson had put his gun to his head and pulled the trigger- the same thing Tony had been planning on doing when he got home from work that night.

Was it a coincidence that the same day Tony thought about taking his own life, too afraid to keep going with the knowledge that he was going to die an early death, the case they worked involved a man who had done the same thing he was planning? As Gibbs would say, there are no such thing as coincidences.

Looking down at Jameson on the slab, he suddenly felt a wave of disgust wash over him. Not towards the Petty Officer, who had done what he'd believed was right for his situation, but at himself for planning the same thing. He couldn't do _this_! All he felt for James as he stared down at him was pity. He didn't want anybody to pity him, least of all the people who mattered most. If he went home and pulled that trigger as he had planned, Abby would pity him for not being able to handle the pressure, and the rest of the team would pity him for being unable to deal with his life. Everybody would eventually find out about his 'ticking time bomb' and they would pity him all the more.

He couldn't allow that. Killing himself was the cowards way out, and Tony wasn't a coward. He might not know when he would die, but it wasn't right then. He was wasting time feeling sorry for himself when he could be out doing _something_.

Jameson, despite his positive military record and the love of his parents, siblings and friends, had left nothing behind. It was another thing that they would have had in common had Tony gone through with his plan. Now, however, he didn't want to be Jameson. With his own death sentence hanging over his head, he would do the opposite of what the young Petty Officer had decided. He would make something of the time he had left, and he would leave something behind- something more than pain and sadness.

* * *

**As you can tell,** this was a pivotal chapter. We're finally getting somewhere outside of depressed, and that will pave the way for another very important conversation between Tony and Gibbs. I did mention there would be some slight Tabby in here, right? Just another reminder. Don't worry, this is a Tony/Gibbs story, with just an undertone of Tabby (because I will admit, originally, this story was Tabby all the way, before I became a Tibbs fan).


	7. Chapter 7: Chains

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS...or anything having to do with NCIS...or anything at all, so don't sue me. I'm broke.

**A/N:** This is a chapter of some significance, because it marks the end of my writers block...and by that I mean that I deleted half of the original story and started the rewrite here.

**Chapter Seven**

**Chains**

"I didn't know you were coming over," Abby said when Tony stepped into her apartment just after leaving the Navy Yard. "I thought you were avoiding me."

"Why would I avoid you?" Tony asked, feeling slightly guilty for lying to her about his lunch plans earlier in the day.

"I don't know, you just seemed awfully distant today," Abby shrugged.

"I had some things on my mind," Tony admitted, dropping down onto the plush purple couch in her living room and leveling her with a stare that she met. "I'm sorry."

"Apologizing is a sign of weakness," Abby admonished him, imitating Gibbs gruff voice as she wagged a finger in his direction.

"I'm a weak person," Tony shrugged in response, breaking eye contact to look across the room at the television set in the corner.

"No you aren't!" Abby protested, and she was sitting beside him before he realized she's crossed the room. "Don't talk about yourself like that!"

He had to admit it to her- what he'd been thinking. If he didn't, he'd feel guilty for the rest of his life.

"I didn't know if I could do it," Tony whispered, refusing to meet her gaze, even though she angled her head in an attempt to. "I'm really good at pretending everything is okay, but…it's too hard, Abby. I'm scared."

"You are the strongest person I know," Abby assured him, giving up and pulling him into a tight hug.

"I don't feel very strong today," Tony shook his head against her shoulder, letting his arms wrap around her slender torso. "I was going to end it. I was going to kill myself. It just seemed easier."

She stiffened against him, so he continued speaking.

"I couldn't do it though. I was looking at Petty Officer Jameson, and I knew I couldn't do it," he said. "I couldn't do that to you, or to Gibbs, or my friends. I couldn't do that to my father. I'm going to die, eventually, yeah, but that doesn't mean it'll be today, or even tomorrow. Hell, I could live for another ten years."

"That's a good way to think about it, "Abby said, and he could hear the tears in her voice.

"That's how I'm going to think about it from now on," he promised her, squeezing her again.

Tony didn't know how long they sat there for, but he didn't mind. It was comfortable.

Suddenly, after what seemed like an impossibly long time, Abby pulled away from him and wiped at her eyes. Her mascara was smudged down her face, following a path of tears. He felt bad for making her cry, but relieved at the same time. He knew he'd made the right choice.

"Let's go out!" The sparkle in her green eyes returned as she jumped off the couch. "We'll go to Chains. We'll get really drunk, and we'll regret it when we have to be at work in the morning."

"Gibbs'll kill me if I show up hungover," Tony protested, but his voice belied his desire to go, and he was standing up as well.

"I'll wear my new black dress, and you wear those pants I bought you in New York," Abby ignored the comment, already on her way towards her bedroom. "Pick me up in an hour."

He was out the door and down the steps to his car without a word. She knew he was in without him having to say it. Thankfully, he didn't live too far from her, and he tore into his apartment building with an air of excitement about him. He greeted his neighbor enthusiastically as they crossed paths outside the elevator, not bothering to acknowledge her strange look.

He really didn't have a very good relationship with his neighbor- not since he'd turned down her advances when she first moved in years before. When he had the unfortunate luck of running into her while home, their conversations were usually pretty aggressive. She thought the world revolved around her because her dad had some money, and he liked to point out that he'd grown up with just as much. She definitely didn't like thinking of herself as equal to him, who had to work for a living. That evening, however, he couldn't keep up the act- he had much better things to think about, like dancing and drinking and spending time with a woman who had more personality and charm than she ever would.

The pants Abby bought him were still in the bag, and he glared at the creases being folded had caused them before he shook them out and pulled them on. The dark blue denim fit him well, and he paired it with a black t-shirt he was sure he'd bought with Abby at one point or another. He spruced up his hair and changed his shoes before he was darting out of the apartment and back to Abby's.

She was dressed when he arrived even though he hadn't been gone for an hour. Her make up was refreshed, and her face was clean. A bit of red in her eyes still hinted at her earlier distress, but it was barely noticeable beneath the black eyeliner and mascara. He recognized her black dress with the studded belt and buttons as one she wore to Chains often, and her usual platform boots adorned her feet. She was waiting for him on the sidewalk when he pulled the car up, and she jumped in without invite before he was pulling away from the curb.

For a weeknight, Chains was bustling with people. When they'd first started going to the club in a not so pleasant part of town, Tony had been apprehensive about it, but over the years, it has certainly grown on him. He greeted the bouncer at the door with a nod of the head before following Abby into the large room, where strobe lights glinted off the wiggling bodies of dancers.

The only rule about Chains was that they stayed together. There were some questionable people hanging around, and when drunk, a state in which they both left on more than one occasion, it could be dangerous.

After a few hours of drinking and dancing and being their usual crazy selves, they left the club arm in arm with smiles plastered on their faces. Tony had parked close to avoid having to walk through the dangerous streets at such a late hour, and they collapsed into the backseat giggling.

"Did you see that guy trying to steal me away?" Abby laughed as she settled on the passenger side of the bench seat, resting her back against the car's plastic interior wall. "I thought he wasn't going to give up!"

"I almost had to teach him a lesson," Tony replied, resting his spinning head against her stomach, twisting his torso so his feet rested on the floor behind the driver's seat.

"You'd have fallen down before the first swing," Abby teased. "You could barely stand up straight."

"Did he have a couple of identical brothers with him?" Tony tossed back, barely able to finish the sentence before he was laughing uncontrollably.

"That guy who invited me to the 'back room' with him was kinda cute," Abby admitted, stroking her fingers through the hair at the crown of his head.

"If you think STD's are cute," Tony made a face.

"Eeewww," Abby squealed. "It's just been so long…"

"It's been a long time for you?" Tony questioned, turning his face up to look at her. "I haven't gotten laid since…since the last time I hooked up with Jethro."

"Have you gone back to a first name basis?" Abby teased him.

"Yeah, right," Tony scoffed. "I wish. It would greatly improve my sex life."

Abby burst out laughing, and Tony couldn't help but join in. How many times had he been drunk with Abby? He couldn't count. It was just so fun and comfortable. They could talk about anything and everything, and Tony wasn't worried about waking up to a nasty surprise the next morning. They looked out for each other, and had a good time doing so.

"You know…" Abby said when they'd settled down, "we could help each other out."

Scrunching up his brow, Tony thought about what she was saying, trying to get the words through his foggy mind.

"How is that?" He finally has to ask her, turning to look up at her face with confused eyes.

"You could pretend I'm Gibbs, and I could pretend your some hot stranger I picked up on the dance floor," Abby suggested.

Tony laughed outright at the suggestion. "You think you could pull off Gibbs long enough?"

"DiNozzo!" Abby growled gruffly. "Get your ass up and kiss me before I head slap you into next week!"

He continued to laugh, ignoring the stitch in his side, as he followed her orders. He sat up and let his lips land on hers.

One thing he was sure of, was she was not Gibbs. Her lips were soft against his, and her skin smooth. The long arms that wrapped around his neck and pulled him close were slender instead of muscular. Everything about her was soft and smooth and distinctly feminine. Her face lacked the stubble he'd grown so accustomed too, and her hands had not a single callus to drive him crazy.

"Abby," he groaned as he pulled out of the kiss.

"Shh," she scolded him, her hands dropping to his belt buckle. "Just pretend. Let your imagination go crazy."

* * *

**A/N:** Don't murder me. I know you all want a Gibbs/Tony conversation, and it's coming eventually, but at this point it was unrealistic. Tony coming clean to Abby about his thoughts and fears seemed to make more sense than him coming clean to his boss and ex.

**And just another thing,** I do tend to give out spoilers when I respond to reviews that make me happy...so that's just something to take into consideration when you're deciding whether or not to review...


	8. Chapter 8: Angry Confrontations

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NCIS...or anything having to do with NCIS...or anything at all, so don't sue me. I'm broke.

**A/N:** I do not condone drinking and driving, and therefore, none of the characters in anything I ever write will drink and drive (unless it's required to progress the plot, which is not the case here). I'm sure you will be able to tell by the first scene of this chapter that I never intended for Tony to drive he and Abby home drunk. With that said, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

**Chapter Eight**

**Angry Confrontations**

The first thing he realized upon waking up was that his head was pounding, and he groaned. The moment he walked into work Gibbs was going to realize he'd been out clubbing the night before. The second thing he realized was the light streaming through the cars windows. What time was it? He was awake instantly, sitting up despite Abby lying beside him on the cars backseat.

"Shit," he cried as he grabbed his phone from the front seat and stared at the time. "I'm late. We're late. Gibbs is going to have my head!"

Abby groaned as she scrubbed at her face, smearing her already smeared make up.

The third thing he realized as the fact that they were both naked, and lying beneath Abby's long coat, which had been in his car for weeks- since the last time they'd gone to Chains. It took very little to jog his memory of the previous night's activities. He pushed the thoughts away as his phone let out a shrill shriek and pain rang through his head.

"DiNozzo," he said into the phone, trying to sound professional and awake.

"Where the hell are you?" Ziva's voice demanded from the other end of the line.

"On my way," he responded, moving so Abby could get up. "I'm running a little late."

"A little late?" Ziva scoffed. "You should have been here 45 minutes ago! Gibbs is on the war path, and we have to deal with him. You will be lucky if he does not fire you."

"I'll be there soon," he assured her with a sigh. "Relax, Ziva, before you have a heart attack."

He hung up before she could respond and he sighed.

"Today's going to be just great," he muttered, rooting around on the floor for his shirt and pants. "You think I'll get away with wearing this to work?"

"It depends," Abby replied as she pulled her dress over her head.

"On what?"

"What kind of mood Gibbs is in. If he's horny, you'll be lucky if he doesn't take you in the elevator and have his way with you. If he got some last night, well, I hear the FBI is hiring," was Abby's answer.

"Not funny," he shook his head.

He dressed quickly before climbing across the center console and into the driver's seat. He chugged down half the water from a bottle in the cup holder from the day before, before pushing the remaining half at Abby, who followed him into the front seat, and buckled her seatbelt.

Tony dropped Abby at her apartment before deciding he didn't have time to go home for a shower. It wasn't like he looked terrible, and he had a spare shirt in the filing cabinet that would go with his jeans.

"Gibbs is going to fire you," Ziva said when he slid into the space behind his desk and pulled open the filing cabinet drawer with his spare shirts, "and he is right too."

He didn't acknowledge her, but sent a glare at McGee, who was staring at him. He located a dark blue shirt and pulled it on over his black t-shirt from the night before just in time for Gibbs to breeze into the bullpen and stop in front of his desk.

"Sorry I'm late, boss," he said quickly. "My alarm clock didn't go off this morning."

Gibbs was in his personal space before Tony could protest, standing so close that their chests were just about touching.

"My office," was all that Gibbs said before turning and stalking towards the elevator.

Tony groaned before following him. This was not going to end well. They waited for the elevator in silence, then waited for several minutes for people to disembark. Trying not to show fear, Tony didn't hesitate before entering the small box with his boss. Gibbs acted cool as he hit the button to the floor below them and waited a few moments before hitting the emergency stop button. Trapped between floors with a boss who was clearly not pleased with him, Tony gulped.

He was forced into a corner then, Gibbs using all of his powers of intimidation.

"You smell like alcohol," Gibbs stated.

"I haven't brushed my teeth yet," Tony shrugged.

"You and Abby went out last night." It wasn't a question. Gibbs didn't need to ask questions.

"We needed to unwind," Tony answered. "We had a long day."

Gibbs icy blue eyes bore into his, and Tony gulped again, sure his head was about to come off. To his surprise, Gibbs took a step back instead.

"Boss?" Tony asked softly.

"Go home," Gibbs replied as he turned the elevator back on and waited.

"I'm fine to work," Tony protested.

"I'm not going to repeat myself," Gibbs snapped at him.

"I was late, I'm sorry," Tony tried, slamming his hand down on the emergency stop button. "I went out last night with Abby and got a little drunk, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Gibbs." He was letting his anger show, which was a bad idea, but he couldn't control it.

Gibbs just stared at him.

"I stayed late last night," Tony went on. "I've stayed late and come in early plenty of times, so I'm sorry you can't look at the whole picture to excuse one stupid little mistake! It was an accident and I'm sorry! I'm fucking sorry."

"Are you done?" Gibbs asked.

Tony clenched his jaw tightly to prevent himself from saying something, while mentally seething. Arguing with Gibbs was not a good way to persuade the man to let him keep his job, and he knew that, but he just couldn't help it.

"You're out of order," Gibbs said, invading his personal space again. "You're keeping secrets, you're not acting like yourself, and your behavior has been self destructive."

"Things I do in my personal life are none of your business," Tony hissed at him.

"They are if it affects your job, and it has been," Gibbs responded. "And you're dragging Abby with you."

"Going out last night was Abby's idea," Tony corrected him.

"Whatever the two of you are up to, it's going to stop now."

"You can't tell me what I can do and who I can see when I'm not here." He took a deep breath in order to calm his shaking hands and pounding heart, all while trying to keep the symptoms of his hangover at bay.

Gibbs reached over and started up the elevator, but didn't step away until the doors had dinged open.

"I'll see you tomorrow DiNozzo," Gibbs said as he left the elevator.

* * *

**A/N: **Gibbs was a jerk in this chapter, but Gibbs is a bastard, so I chose not to take him out of character. Does anybody detect a hint of jealousy? I think I might... any thoughts?


	9. Chapter 9: You Belong to Me

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS.

**A/N: **I hadn't planned on updating until Wednesday morning, but was so excited for chapter 10, that I decided to post a little early.

**Chapter Nine**

**You Belong to Me**

Tony couldn't take anymore. It had been three days since his argument with Gibbs in the elevator, and while he'd gone back to work the next day and did his best to be professional despite his anger, being around Gibbs was driving him crazy. The older man's demeanor was icy cold towards everybody in the building, but especially him. They had barely spoken a word to one another. Even Abby was feeling the effects of Gibbs sour mood.

At first Tony assumed it was the case they'd picked up while he'd been home with his hangover, but it was wasn't a particularly difficult case, and it was solved pretty quickly. If anything, Gibbs got even angrier when the case was closed. Tony had been sitting in Abby's lab talking about ballistics for a cold case when Gibbs appeared and yelled at him to go back to the bullpen. Shocked, Tony had done as ordered, but now, later that afternoon, he wished he'd said something. He had not been in the wrong that morning.

It was for this reason that he'd left the Navy Yard and drove the familiar route to Gibb's house that Friday night, intent on figuring out what was going on with the older man that had him so angry. Tony could understand any anger towards him for being irresponsible, but not the others- especially not Abby, who had done nothing wrong.

Gibbs' Charger was parked in the driveway when Tony pulled up. He waited a moment before getting out of the car, half fearing that the moment he walked into the house Gibbs was going to shoot him for daring show up. A pathetic pep talk later, and Tony got out of the car, headed up the front walk, and stopped in front of the door. He took a deep breath before pushing the door open.

The house was quiet. The living room light was off, but not the kitchen, and he could hear sounds coming from the basement. He didn't bother to pause at the top of the steps before descending into Gibbs sanctuary.

Gibbs didn't stop sanding the rib of his boat when Tony reached the bottom. He grunted in acknowledgement of his presence, but kept working, so Tony stepped farther into the room and leaned against a sawhorse.

"What do you want?" Gibbs finally demanded when Tony didn't say anything.

"To ask why you're being such an ass," Tony tossed back, crossing his arms over his chest, half in anger and half in defense against the harsh tone.

"Don't think that's any of your business," Gibbs grunted, eyes glued to the wood he was working with.

"It is when it's affecting you at work," Tony pointed out. "Something is obviously going on, or you wouldn't have yelled at Abby this morning."

"You and Abby need to knock off the buddy shit at work," Gibbs growled. "You're there to do a job. If you want to get drunk after work, go right ahead, otherwise, I'm in charge."

"This morning we were talking about a cold case," Tony corrected him. "One that you left on my desk and told me to work on."

"And when I tell you to work on something, sit at your damn desk and work on it," Gibbs snapped.

Tony didn't respond. It was the most ridiculous thing Gibbs had so far said. The majority of his job was not done sitting at his desk, and Gibbs was well aware of that. He wasn't McGee. He worked better gathering information and talking to people, not sitting at a computer.

"Rule 12," Gibbs said when Tony remained silent.

"What about it?" It confused him that Gibbs was referencing rules.

"Maybe you should keep it in mind," Gibbs said through a tight jaw.

Tony narrowed his eyes. "I will the next time I come over and you want to rip my clothes off."

Gibbs slammed the sanding block against the boat so hard Tony was surprised he didn't crack the wood. Jumping only slightly at the sudden movement, Tony quailed his startled heart and kept his eyes on the older man across from him. Suddenly, Gibbs turned, and with anger burning in his eyes, stomped over to stand directly in front of Tony.

"I don't care if you want to get drunk every night and fuck Abby," Gibbs snarled, "but if you think I'm going to let that bullshit creep its way into my workplace, you're going to be sorely disappointed."

Several thoughts flitted through Tony's mind at that statement. How had Gibbs known he'd slept with Abby? Did he think he was dating Abby? Why did he care so much? The answer hit him like a ton of bricks to the back of the head.

"You're jealous," Tony hissed, unfolding his hands and pushing his palms into Gibbs chest to create some kind of barrier between them. "You've been pissed off lately because you think Abby and I are together and it's making you crazy!"

"Don't flatter yourself," Gibbs shook his head.

"I'm right," Tony responded forcefully. "And you're wrong."

"Wrong about what?" Gibbs demanded.

"Abby and I aren't anything more than friends," Tony answered. "We've never been anything more than friends. Have you forgotten that I'm gay?"

He watched Gibbs absorb the statement, emotions pooling in his blue eyes as he registered Tony's words.

"I don't swing both ways like you," he said when Gibbs didn't say anything. "Yeah, I might have slept with Abby _once_, but only because I was thinking about you the entire time."

There was more silence after that, and for a second, Tony was sure that Gibbs was going to knock his head off. He couldn't read the emotions in his former lover's eyes. He was not expecting Gibbs to kiss him. He was not expecting Gibbs to slam his lips on his forcefully. He was not expecting that kiss to turn into a heated make out session that only ended when Tony pushed him away.

"What was that?" Tony demanded, fisting his hands in the front of Gibbs gray shirt.

Gibbs said, "if you wanted to sleep with me, you should have come over."

"It wasn't exactly planned," Tony shrugged.

Gibbs set his hands against Tony's face, holding it in place before pressing their lips together gently.

"You belong to me," Gibbs whispered before kissing him gently again. "You always have, and you always will. You know that."

He would have nodded if he could, so instead he breathed out a single word. "Yes."

* * *

**A/N: The End- of the chapter anyway. The next should be up tomorrow morning, because I'm just so excited to post it! I was giddy all through writing it, which is strange for the very unemotional me...**

**So, in light of my excitement for chapter 10, let's play a little game, shall we? If you can tell me exactly why I'm so excited about Chapter 10 (and I do believe I've already mentioned it before), I'll tell you exactly when Tony lets Gibbs in on the big secret. Sound good?**

**P.S.: It's not that Tony is going to tell Gibbs...and a *hint*: It was mentioned in Chapter 1. **


	10. Chapter 10: After A Cozy Weekend

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS.

**A/N:** Perhaps I should have mentioned that the answer to the question had nothing to do with the content of Chapter 10. *sigh* The answer was simply that I really like rounded numbers, like the number 10. Of course, I really like this chapter too...

**Chapter Ten**

**A Cozy Weekend**

He woke up the next morning in a better mood than he'd been in in a long time. Turning over, he grinned at Gibbs, who was sitting against the head board reading a book, his square glasses perched on his nose so he could see the tiny print. He'd missed mornings like this. Being a Saturday, they had nowhere to be, and there was no rush to get out of bed.

Thinking back to their night, he couldn't help but let his grin grow wider. He'd missed the intimacy of being with Gibbs. He'd missed feeling those callused hands on his body and knowing that the man they belonged to was thinking only about him. He loved how Gibbs knew exactly where to touch him, how hard, and for how long. He liked knowing exactly what to do to make his partner moan his name.

"What time is it?" Tony asked, reaching out to run a hand over Gibbs abdomen, wrapping it around in a quasi hug.

"Almost eight," Gibbs answered, letting a hand fall to Tony's head to run through his hair.

They spent the rest of the morning in bed, lying together in companionable silence while Gibbs read his book. They didn't need to talk. There was nothing to say.

He hated himself when his thoughts turned to his upcoming doom. His heart just about dropped into his stomach when he realized the implications of what had happened the night before. It wasn't just his fear that this second chance wasn't going to last- though there was plenty of that, but what was he going to tell Gibbs about his diagnosis? From the beginning he knew he'd have to tell Gibbs something, but when the older man was just his boss it was different.

Now, Gibbs didn't just have to worry about Tony keeling over on the job and leaving him a man down. He now would have to worry about Tony's death on a bigger scale- not just the loss of a teammate, but the loss of a partner. Would Gibbs even want to? What if he decided that it was just too much, and that he'd rather shield his heart from the pain of Tony's impending, unpredictable death? He really couldn't stand the thought of losing Gibbs now that he had him.

He had to tell Gibbs. There was no way around it. Keeping it to himself would be a betrayal of Gibbs trust, and his love. It scared him to tell him, but he had to. There was no way around it. He found it too easy to convince himself that it didn't have to be right then. After all, why waste the perfect morning they'd created with such depressing news? That would be mean. He would just tell Gibbs later.

When they finally managed to pull themselves out of bed, Tony headed downstairs to make breakfast while Gibbs hit the shower. The smell of fried eggs and bacon drew the older man downstairs after only fifteen minutes, sans shirt, and Tony ogled the sight. For a man of his age, Gibbs was in considerably good shape. There was more muscle than flab on his body, and he moved with purposeful steps that Tony adored. He briefly wondered if he was weird for loving the way Gibbs walked, but pushed the thought away. After all, he loved everything about Gibbs.

They chatted about chickens while they ate, and Tony left Gibbs to clean up the kitchen while he took his turn in the shower. He hadn't brought any clothes with him the night before as he hadn't planned on staying over, so he grabbed a pair of sweats and a t-shirt from the dresser while he waited for the water to heat up.

It was so familiar and comfortable being at Gibbs house, using his shower, and wearing his clothes. It reminded him of times so long ago when he'd spent every weekend with Gibbs, and the occasional weeknights. It was a wonderful feeling, being back, and he wouldn't let depressing thoughts taint it.

NCIS

As the weekend wound down, Tony knew he was going to have to talk to Gibbs. They'd spent two days doing nothing but enjoy the other's company, but Sunday night meant it was time to prepare for the work week, and it was time for Tony to go back to his apartment- his cold, depressing, lonely apartment. He was out of stalling time. Either he told Gibbs about his condition now, or he ended their budding re-relationship.

Approaching Gibbs was hard. The older man was working on his boat in the basement, sanding one of the ribs, and he barely glanced up as Tony descended the stairs. Something about the stiff movements in Gibb's arms told him that Gibbs was tense, though about what, Tony wasn't sure. He hadn't spilled the beans yet.

"We need to talk," Tony said, his voice a bit shaky as he leaned against the same sawhorse he'd leaned against on Friday night when he'd arrived.

"Yeah," Gibbs offered him a clipped nod before stilling his hand, crossing the room, and setting the sanding block on the table with the rest of his tools.

"Are you alright?" Tony wondered, setting a hand on Gibbs arm, his brow furrowed with concern.

"I'm fine," Gibbs sighed, lifting his arms so Tony's hand slid down to his own, and entwined their fingers. "Let's talk."

Tony nodded before taking a deep breath. The time had come. He'd been putting it off for so long that he didn't know where to start. He'd rehearsed it in his head upstairs, but now that he was standing in front of Gibbs, he couldn't think of what to say at all.

"I love you," Gibbs finally broke the silence that Tony had been unable to fill with an explanation, "and I'm worried."

"You are?" He could barely keep the shock out of his voice.

"Yeah," Gibbs nodded. "This weekend has been great, and I want things to keep being great."

"They can't be this perfect forever," Tony agreed.

"No. So I'm worried about what's going to happen next," Gibbs admitted. "What's our next move?"

"I don't want to let you go," Tony responded quickly.

"We tried working and being together before. It didn't work then. Why would it work now?" Tony wasn't used to Gibbs being so open about his feelings. It had been so long since the other man had talked to him about being afraid- talked to him like a partner instead of his Senior Field Agent.

This was not the conversation Tony really wanted to be having. He'd prepared himself to come clean about his 'time bomb,' not a 'where is this going?' conversation.

"We'll make it work," Tony answered after a moment of silence.

"And last time we didn't?" Gibbs quirked an eyebrow.

"I think that when we broke up, we knew it wasn't the end." Tony chose his words carefully. "We knew we'd still be seeing each other every day, that we still cared about each other, and that we'd be there for each other if anything happened. It was more like taking space than breaking up, you know?"

"And this time?" Gibbs prodded at him to continue.

"This time we've had enough space," Tony shrugged, "and we've figured out what we shouldn't do to try and fix our problems. We can learn from past mistakes."

Insecure Gibbs was not Tony's favorite part of the man he loved. He took Gibbs for who he was and all of his different sides, and he could deal with the insecurity, but he was much more comfortable with demanding, take-charge Gibbs. He didn't have to be sensitive when Gibbs was telling him what to do.

It was now or never.

"And we have a reason to stay together." Tony bit his lip as he waited for Gibbs reaction.

"And what's that?" Gibbs was staring at him, his eyes willing him to speak.

"We don't have all the time in the world to play games anymore," Tony said after a deep breath failed to relieve his nerves.

"And why wouldn't we?" Gibbs wondered, his brow furrowing in confusion as he tried to understand what Tony was telling him.

His heart was thudding painfully against his ribs. It was going so hard and fast that Tony was sure Gibbs could see it, though the other man didn't say anything. Sweat was beading on his forehead, and his mouth had gone dry. This was the moment that had the potential to rip away the only person he'd ever actually been in love with.

"I've got this…thing…in my head," Tony explained. "Me and Abby call it the time bomb, and when it goes off…I'll die."

Gibbs reaction wasn't what Tony expected. Instead of dropping his hand and screaming about how he couldn't deal with the stress of Tony's ailment before running away, Gibbs just continued staring at him.

"I haven't known for that long. Just over a week, really," Tony continued, nerves causing him to ramble. "I've been freaking out, but Abby's been helping me through it. That's why we've been spending so much more time together than usual. She's been really great about it. If it's too much for you, it's okay. I don't expect you to take on my prob-"

Gibbs lips silenced him. Shocked, it took him a few moments to melt into the kiss, letting Gibbs mouth work away his stress. When the older man pulled away, Tony tried to catch his breath as he stared at Gibbs, who had let go of his hands and laid both palms on either side of his head.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Gibbs asked, his voice soft as he laid his forehead against Tony's.

"I couldn't," Tony admitted, diverting his eyes downwards. "I was afraid."

"Shit, Tony," Gibbs murmured before kissing him gently. "You should have told me."

"If it's too much for you…" Tony began again, but Gibbs stopped him with another kiss.

"I love you, Tony," Gibbs said firmly. "I'm not going to run away because of something that might happen in the future. If this is going to happen, I'm not going to waste the rest of the time I have with you by running away. Don't forget, you belong to me."

Tony could have cried. He almost did, but DiNozzo men don't cry, so instead, he wrapped his arms around Gibbs torso and pulled him tightly against him. He'd been so afraid that Gibbs was going to cast him away that it had physically hurt. That pain was now easing, and he held onto Gibbs, who stroked his callused hands down Tony's back, holding him just as tightly.

* * *

**A/N: **So...it's only right that my favorite chapter contained something you've been demanding since Chapter 1, right? What did you think of it? I'd love some feedback...and not that Gibbs is out of character. I figure, the man must have a sensitive side behind that gruff exterior somewhere...I mean, he managed to convince 4 women to marry him, right? He must have showed some kind of sensitivity.


	11. Chapter 11: Ruined Plans

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS

**A/N: **I've run out of stockpiled chapters, so there may be a bit of a wait between them from now on out...not too long, but a few days or so. There's a bit of a twist coming, but don't worry, this story is far from over.

**Chapter Eleven**

**Ruined Plans**

There was only one conversation Tony was dreading after he'd told Gibbs about his diagnosis. It wasn't the 'how are we going to handle work?' conversation, or even the, 'you had better get checked for STD's because I have no idea who you've been sleeping with,' conversation. He could certainly handle those, and he did when each of them came up. They were nothing compared to the subject that Tony knew was eventually going to come up.

It made its appearance on Wednesday night two weeks after he'd told Gibbs the news. They were lying on the couch in Tony's apartment watching a movie when Gibbs mentioned it, and something about being in his own place made Tony feel a little better. While he loved being at Gibb's place, there was something lacking about having serious conversations there.

They were spooned together on Tony's leather couch, Gibbs behind with his arms wrapped around Tony's waist, and his chin resting on his shoulder. Tony's knees were draped over Gibb's own bent legs, his torso turned so his chest was facing the television while his hips lay flat on the couch. It had been comfortable until Gibbs opened his mouth and asked the question Tony was dreading.

"What did the doctor say about your condition?"

He'd known it was coming. There was no way it wasn't coming, but that didn't mean he felt any better about having it. Sure, Gibbs was entitled to answers- they were in a relationship after all- but Tony hadn't even told Abby everything regarding his diagnosis. The gist of stuff was all Abby needed to know.

Turning over, so that his back was flat on the couch, he turned his head to look at Gibbs, who pulled back to lean into the couch when Tony dislodged him.

"Not much," Tony tried, but he knew before he said it that it wasn't going to cut it.

Gibbs just continued to stare at him until Tony sighed, took a deep breath and confronted what he'd been fearing- actually talking about what was going on with his health. When he wasn't talking about it at least he could pretend that it wasn't happening. Getting back together with Gibbs had certainly helped too.

"There's an artery in my brain, deep where the doctors can't get, and it's genetically malformed," Tony explained, entwining his hand with Gibbs to draw on the man's ever present strength. "It's causing pressure on the artery walls, and when the pressure gets to be too much to handle, it'll pop like a balloon."

"There's nothing the doctors can do about it?" Gibbs wondered.

"Nothing," Tony confirmed. "Surgery would be too risky. The chances of surviving would be very low."

"How long do they think it'll be before…" Gibbs couldn't say the word, and Tony understood why.

"They don't know. Tomorrow. In an hour. Five years from now. They say it'll probably be sometime in the next ten years, but they can't pinpoint exactly when," Tony replied. "It's all okay though. I'm not sick or anything. I can still work, and my daily routine doesn't need to change." He needed Gibbs to realize that slowing down wasn't going to help him. If he knew the man at all, he'd have him put in a giant bubble to keep him alive for as long as possible when that would do nothing to prolong his life.

"It's not okay," Gibbs shook his head. "You shouldn't have to deal with this alone."

"I'm not alone," Tony corrected him. "I have you and Abby. I love you both, and I know you both love me and will be there for me if I need you."

Gibbs just nodded, a promise to always be there in his eyes.

NCIS

Gibbs recalled his first encounter with Abby after she found out about his and Tony's re-connection with a grin. She'd been torn on whether to hit him for being an ass, or hug him and dance for joy at the happy revelation. In the end she'd settled for threatening him while hugging him, insisting that if he so much as hurt Tony's feelings for even a fraction of a second, she'd kill him and bury his body where nobody would ever be able to find him. It was typical Abby fashion.

She hadn't been all that happy that she had to share the man that they both loved- but in very different ways- even though Gibbs assured her nothing would change. He'd even insisted that the two of them go out on Friday evenings to do whatever crazy things they did, as long as there was no more pretending that Abby was him. They had both laughed at him at that, but promised nonetheless that they were done pretending.

Gibbs approached her that morning, however, with the intent to break the duo's weekly plans. After his conversation with Tony the other night, he had something else in mind for that weekend, and it required his partner to be well rested.

"Hey Gibbs," Abby greeted when he breezed into her lab with a caf-pow- brought to make up for any hurt feelings his intent may cause. "I'm not running anything for you…"

"I know," Gibbs nodded. "I'm taking Tony away for the weekend."

"That'll be nice!" Abby smiled. "Where are you going?"

"My father's cabin on Lake Burnstein," Gibbs replied. "We haven't been up there before. I think he'll like it."

"Tony? In the wilderness?" Abby was skeptical.

"Who says we'll be in the wilderness? I don't think we'll be spending much time outdoors," Gibbs said, and Abby shoved him in the shoulder for his teasing. "He needs a weekend just to relax. He's too stressed out."

"I can't argue with that," Abby conceded.

"So," Gibbs paused for a moment, "no crazy plans for tonight."

Abby sighed dramatically then before saying, "fine. I won't tire him out before you get the chance to."

In the end it turned out that neither of them would get the chance to tire Tony out for the weekend. When Gibbs walked into the bullpen only a few moments later, his gaze immediately landed on Tony and knew something was wrong. His partner was sitting at his desk with an odd expression on his face- a mixture of blankness and dreaminess that didn't look right as the younger man stared at the carpeted floor between his desk and Ziva's.

"Tony?" Ziva was asking, her voice concerned as she stood up from her desk. "Are you alright?"

Gibbs was spinning Tony's chair around and kneeling in front of him before Ziva and McGee could approach. Tony turned his stare on Gibbs, but his expression remained the same.

"What happened?" He demanded of the other two agents, but by the looks on their faces, he could tell that neither of them knew.

"One moment he was talking about the Butler murder last week, and then he just got this pained look on his face before he just shut down completely!" McGee explained. "Should I call 911?"

"Yes," Gibbs barked at him, setting a hand against Tony's cheek. "Tony, can you hear me? Can you talk to me, please?"

There was no response from Tony, and Gibbs blood ran cold.

* * *

**A/N:** Uh oh...any thoughts?


	12. Chapter 12: Freaking Out

**Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS, and I'm certainly not making any money off of this...**

**A/N: **My boredom is your fortune when it comes to this story. I've run out of things to do today (things I want to do anyway), so here is the next chapter. I guess I may also have felt bad for the cliffhanger the last chapter ended on...Poor, poor, Tony. A few notices beforehand though:

**1) **I was so bored, I wrote this chapter...but I don't have any others, and tomorrow is an action packed day, so don't expect an update then...

**2) **I now have a facebook page, so go check it out: This Ren

**3) **The title of this chapter sucks. I couldn't think of a better one, so just ignore it.

**Chapter Twelve**

**Freaking Out**

The alarm clock was irritating him. The steady beep, beep, beep was dragging him out of a restful sleep, and try as he might, he couldn't ignore it. It just kept going and going and going. Where was Jethro? The alarm was on his side of the bed. He was supposed to turn it off. With a groan, he lifted an arm and without opening his eyes, swiped his arm at where he assumed the clock was. Instead of the hard wood of the table, or the plastic of the alarm, or even the hard metal of the lamp, Tony's hand struck soft, warm flesh.

"Turn the damn alarm off," Tony ordered Jethro (because who else could it be?). "I'm not ready to get up yet."

"What?" Abby's voice came from right beside his ear, sounding groggy.

He opened his eyes reluctantly, and he instantly regretted it. Instead of Jethro's bedroom, or his own, as he'd assumed, he was lying in a hospital room. The beeping that had woken him came not from an alarm, but from the heart monitor to his right, leadings running down to connect with sticky pads on his chest. There was an IV in his left arm, running to a bag on a hanger and dripping some kind of medication into his veins. His head felt like a lead weight attached to his neck.

"What happened?" He wondered, and immediately felt the scratchiness in his throat that he knew accompanied intubation.

"You had a bleed in your brain. The doctors were able to stop it with surgery," Abby explained. "It really freaked us out. We didn't know if you were going to wake up."

"I did," Ton stated the obvious. "I thought they couldn't operate? I thought it was a lost cause?"

"It wasn't your time bomb," Abby corrected him. "It was a different one. They did a scan when you got here, and they did surgery to fix it. They didn't know what damage had been done though. They said you had to wake up in order to know, but they weren't optimistic that you were going wake up."

"I don't understand," Tony admitted, reaching a hand up to feel a thick bandage of gauze covering his head.

"Dr. Baylor didn't see the other one," Abby responded, reaching for his hand, but he pulled it away. "It wasn't as noticeable as the time bomb."

"And they still can't fix that one?" Tony wondered.

Abby shook her head.

"You should have just let me die then," Tony muttered, turning to look at the other side of the room.

He wasn't in the mood for company anymore. The news that there had been a second affected artery was enough to freak him out, but also made him worry that there could be more. What if his whole brain was riddled with them? He couldn't handle that possibility without Jethro at his side. He needed him, but Jethro had clearly given up on him- after all, he wasn't there.

"Tony," Abby gasped.

"Just go away," Tony said. "I'm going back to sleep."

"Talk to me, Tony," Abby pleaded. "I know you're scared, but don't do this. You know I love you. We all love you. Ziva and McGee have been here, and you've gotten like a zillion bouquets of flowers and cards. Even Jimmy showed up to sit with you for a little while."

Tony didn't respond. He closed his eyes and willed her away. Abby was his best friend and he loved her, but he didn't want her right now. He wanted Jethro, and Jethro was gone.

"I'm going to get a caf-pow," Abby finally relented, and he heard her stand up. "And I'll let the nurse know that you've woken up. I'll be back in a little while."

He was positive that the doctor who came into the room a few minutes after Abby left was sure he was suffering from severe brain damage. He refused to answer any questions they asked, opting to stare at the wall across from his bed instead. He fisted his hands in the blanket and held on tightly as he tried to will away the tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes.

NCIS

"Gibbs!" Abby was in his arms before he could fully comprehend that she'd called out to him.

Her arms were locked around his neck so tightly, he was half worried that she was going to strangle him. When she eventually pulled back, apologizing for almost spilling his coffee, he could easily see that something was wrong. Her eyes were blood shot and red-rimmed. Her mascara was gone, scrubbed away, and tear tracks lined her cheeks.

"What happened?" He demanded, his heart dropping into his stomach as he considered the implications of her tears. "What's wrong? Why aren't you with Tony?"

"He told me to go away," Abby chocked back a new sob. "He woke up and he freaked out. He said we should have just let him die! I didn't know what to do, Gibbs. I let the nurse know, and she called the doctor, and he says that Tony is refusing to respond to verbal stimuli."

He could understand Tony's fright, and he wished he hadn't gone home for a shower. He'd sat by Tony's side since they brought him out of the operating room three days earlier, leaving only to shower and change his clothes in the morning, when Abby came by to sit with Tony until he got back. Tony should have woken up to him reassuring him. While he knew that Abby meant a great deal to his partner, and that they were very close, he would have been able to reassure Tony so much better than Abby could.

He walked quickly to the Nurse's Station to check in, signing his name illegibly on the roster, before heading to the room he knew was Tony's. His heart nearly broke when he entered the hospital room he'd become all too familiar with. Tony was lying on his bed, his eyes staring into nothing, and his arms lying limply at his sides. Had he not known better, or had Tony's eyes been closed, Gibbs would have thought he hadn't woken up and Abby's anxiety was due to a bad dream.

"Hey," Jethro greeted as he approached the bed and lowered himself into the only chair.

Tony turned his head slowly, and Jethro could see the wetness that was threatening to pour over.

"You weren't here," Tony whispered.

"I went home to take a shower," Jethro explained, reaching over to stroke his partners cheek. "I smelled like antiseptic and stale coffee. It wasn't pleasant."

"I thought you'd left me," Tony admitted.

"Never," Jethro promised, leaning forward to take his hand. "I'm not going anywhere."

A tear leaked from the corner of Tony's eyes, and Jethro brushed it away with the pad of his thumb. He really wished he hadn't left.

"You can't get rid of me with a little brain aneurysm," Jethro joked. "It won't be that easy."

He was holding Tony in his arms in the next second, the younger man's head resting heavily against his shoulder as Jethro rubbed his hands up and down Tony's spine to sooth him. He could feel his partners heaving chest as he sobbed, letting out all of the emotions that had overwhelmed him when he'd woken up.

"I'll never leave you," Jethro promised, speaking quietly. "I can't live without you. We're going to get through this. I'll do whatever I need to do to help you get through. I love you."

"I love you so much," Tony gasped. "I freaked out. I'm so sorry."

"There's no need to apologize. You did nothing wrong," Jethro assured him.

* * *

**A/N: **Well? Terrible? Wonderful? Blah? Let me know...also, ignore any grammar and spelling mistakes...I checked it pretty thoroughly, but I may have missed a few, and don't forget to check out my facebook page- This Ren.


	13. Chapter 13: A Stupid Mistake

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS. At all.

**A/N: **I decided to jump forward in time a bit for this chapter. I wrote another chapter to take place after chapter 12, but I hated it. I just really couldn't get it to be what I wanted it to be, so I decided to skip ahead by a month to jump into the next plot twist. I really hope that after you read this chapter, you won't want to kill me.

**Chapter Thirteen**

**A Stupid Mistake**

1 Month Later:

"Jethro!" Tony called, drumming his fingers against the arm of the couch.

There was no response, but it didn't surprise him. Jethro hadn't responded to the last three times he'd shouted for him. The cut off had come with fair warning, so Tony really couldn't be annoyed with his partner. He'd been calling him upstairs for the last hour, making vague excuses as to why and irritating his partner to this point of ignoring him.

Honestly, he wasn't trying to annoy his partner. On the contrary, he wanted to spend time with him. Jethro didn't feel the same. He wanted to work on his boat, in the basement, alone. Well, maybe not alone. He'd invited Tony to sit in the basement with him, even suggested he help with the sanding, but Tony had refused. He didn't want to work on the boat. He wanted Jethro to sit on the couch with him. He wanted Jethro to do something with him, not the other way around.

He'd been spending more and more time at Jethro's house since his stint in the hospital. He hadn't been back to his apartment in nearly a week, stopping only to pick up the mail on Monday morning. It just seemed right to not be alone after the discovery of the second time bomb in his brain, and while it had been surgically repaired to prevent it from causing any more damage, it had done it's job of scaring the both of them. It made the more dangerous time bomb a reality instead of a possibility. He'd attached himself to Jethro's hip the moment they'd released him from the hospital, wanting to spend all the time he could with his partner.

The shrill ringing of his cell phone caught him off guard just as he was about to call for Jethro again. Leaning forward and grabbing the phone from the coffee table, he was disappointed to see that it was Abby. Not that he didn't love Abby- she'd just been moody lately, glaring at him whenever he went down to her lab. Also, he really just wanted to spend time with Jethro.

"Hey Abs," he greeted her with false cheer.

"What are you doing?" Abby wondered from the other side of the line.

"I'm not doing anything," Tony replied. "Jethro is being reclusive."

"Come over," Abby said.

"Is everything alright?" That morning she hadn't wanted him to be anywhere near her, declining his offer of a caf-pow and lunch to make up for whatever it was he'd done to irritate her.

"Just come over," Abby replied.

She's hung up before he could respond, so he sighed and stood up. If Jethro wasn't going to spend any time with him, he might as well see what was going on with Abby. Perhaps she was ready to talk about what exactly was going on in her head.

"Jethro?" He called from the top of the basement stairs.

"What?" Came the annoyed response and the decline in movement.

"I'm going to Abby's," Tony told him. "I don't think I'll be back tonight, so I'll see you at work tomorrow morning."

There was silence for a moment before Jethro grunted, "fine."

"I love you," Tony said.

"Love you too," came the not so annoyed reply, and Tony grinned. He would see Jethro in the morning, and perhaps after work he'd want to spend time together. If not, Tony was sure he could pull out a few moves that would easily persuade him.

The drive from Jethro's house to Abby's was longer than the drive from his apartment to her house, and he could tell that it annoyed her when he knocked on the door. Clearly, her mood from that morning had not gone away. She stepped aside for him to enter, and he did with a feeling of dread in his stomach. He had the overwhelming feeling that he was not going to enjoy this visit with his best friend.

"Something wrong, Abs?" He repeated his question from earlier as he flopped down on her purple couch and balanced his feet on her coffee table.

"Something is very, very, very, very wrong," Abby nodded her head vigorously.

"What is it?" He prompted when she didn't say anything else.

This was not characteristic of Abby. She was bouncy and happy. Nothing ever got her down for very long, and yet it had been days since his best friend had acted normal- as normal as Abby could be anyway. It bothered him to think that something could be going on with her. Didn't he have bad luck enough for both of them?

Abby sat primly on the other side of the couch, wringing her hands in her lap and looking anywhere but at him. Uncomfortable, Tony sat up and turned to face her, his heart thudding as he braced himself for whatever bad news Abby was about to break. Had he done something to offend her without realizing it? Was she upset with him? What could possibly be going on that he didn't know about?

"You remember that night we went to Chains?" Abby asked after opening and closing her mouth a good ten times.

"Last Friday? Yeah," Tony replied, racking his brain for something that may have happened.

"No," Abby shook her head. "Not that time. The _other_ time."

"Which other time? It's not like we don't go there a lot," Tony reminded her.

"That one time- when we slept together in the back of your car and Gibbs got pissed off and sent you home from work the next morning," Abby said.

He remembered that. They had never talked about it, but he remembered it. It hadn't been a big deal- not even Jethro had seemed to care that it had happened when Tony had admitted to it, though he'd forbad it from happening again.

"Yeah," Tony said slowly, wondering where this conversation could possibly be going.

"Good," Abby said, but otherwise remained silent.

"Is there something you wanted to talk about?" Tony wondered, wishing she hadn't said anything.

It wasn't that he regretted sleeping with her. It really hadn't been all that bad, if he was honest with himself. Sure, he'd never do it again, but it certainly hadn't been the worst sex he'd ever had. She was probably the best Pretend- Jethro he'd ever encounter, not that he made it a habit of encountered people to pretend they were his partner, of course. No, he didn't regret it, but he also didn't want to talk about it.

"I'm a really bad Pretended Jethro," Abby sighed, covering her face with her hands.

"No," Tony tried to reassure her, not wanting to see her cry. "You're just…not Jethro."

"Obviously!" Abby rebuked, throwing her hands away from her face dramatically. "Gibbs can't get pregnant!"

That statement just about knocked him off his feet- and considering he was sitting down, that was really saying something.

"What?" He demanded, eyes wide and heart thudding painfully against his ribs.

"I'm pregnant," Abby repeated the announcement, though a bit less dramatically, standing up to pace across the living room before turning around to face him. "I'm pregnant with your baby."

He couldn't refute her accusation. He knew Abby well enough to know the in's and out's of her sex life. After all, hadn't the only reason they slept together been that they were both going through a dry spell? Tony didn't have to worry about that anymore, what with having Jethro at his beck and call when it came to sex, but Abby's had not changed.

"Wh-ho-I," he really had no idea what to say. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!" Abby cried, staring at him angrily, and he realized a moment too late that his comment had come out wrong. "It's not like I make it a habit of sleeping around, Tony! You know that."

"That's- that's not what I meant!" Tony insisted quickly. "No. Are you sure you're pregnant? You could just be late or something!"

She seemed to calm down a bit at that, but not entirely. "I took a test. It came back positive, so I'm pretty sure. The doctor seemed pretty sure too."

Tony really had no idea what to say…

NCIS

It was very accurate to say that Tony was freaking out. He'd stayed at Abby's only long enough to assure her that everything would be alright- that he supported her 100% in whatever it was she decided to do regarding the baby, and that he took full responsibility for his part in creating this issue. She seemed to have calmed down after a while, and he tucked her into her coffin with a mug of hot tea before he left the apartment.

He really didn't want to go back to his apartment after having that conversation, but going back to Jethro's house was out of the question. What was he supposed to tell his partner? Obviously he could not keep this a secret. How was Jethro going to take the news? Tony already knew he was going to be pissed off. Just because the older man had gotten over the fact that he'd slept with Abby in the first place didn't mean that he'd be just as easy going when it came to the fact that he'd inadvertently knocked her up. No, he'd be lucky if Jethro didn't kill him. He'd be really lucky if Jethro ever spoke to him again.

He considered waiting to tell him. Abby had said she didn't know what she planned on doing yet. She could very well decide that she didn't want to keep the baby, and then he'd have lost his relationship with Jethro for nothing. He knew that was just an excuse to postpone the inevitable, though. He knew Abby well enough to know that she would never go through with terminating the pregnancy- she couldn't even whack a fly without feeling guilty about it. Whether she was thinking about it still or not, she was going to keep the baby, and Tony had to fess up to Jethro about exactly how stupid he'd been that night.

* * *

**A/N: **Don't kill me for that. This will not be an Abby/Tony/Gibbs story (I'm not into those- anymore, anyway), however I'd planned on this happening from the beginning. Do, please, speculate on what will happen next. I am eager to hear your thoughts...

**Also, **don't forget to look This Ren up on facebook!


	14. Chapter 14: Jethro's Reaction

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Jethro's Reaction**

Jethro was staring at him, and Tony really couldn't blame him for the look of annoyance on his face. He'd ultimately decided that waiting to tell Jethro was a big mistake. He loved his partner, and if he wanted their relationship to survive this hurdle, telling Jethro as soon as possible was the way to go. If he waited, Jethro would only be that much more angry that he'd been keeping secrets from him- and his partner certainly didn't like when he kept secrets.

He probably could have waited until morning, he conceded. Jethro had still been working on the boat when he arrived back at his house, which wasn't surprising. He'd been gone three hours, and it hadn't exactly been late when he'd left for Abby's apartment. If anything was true, it was that Jethro was a night owl. When Tony had stormed into the house and demanded that his partner abandon his boat and speak with him immediately, he was pretty sure he'd freaked the man out. Thinking about it now, he'd probably sounded half hysterical.

Now, they were sitting in the living room, and Jethro looked like he wanted to kill him for raising such a ruckus and pulling him away from his project.

"What is it?" Jethro demanded when Tony didn't automatically tell him why exactly he was raising such a fuss. "I thought you were going to spend the evening with Abby."

"I did," Tony nodded, fisting his hands into the bottom of his coat until he lost feeling in his hands.

"Did something happen? Is Abby okay?" Clearly, Jethro was not worried about Abby, or he would not have continued to be annoyed.

"Abby's fine," Tony waved off the question. It wasn't a lie- she wasn't dying or anything.

"Are we just going to sit here and pretend that I know what the hell is going through your head, or are you going to actually tell me at some point?" Jethro demanded.

There really was no reason to make Jethro any angrier by stalling. If his partner was going to kill him, he might as well get it over with, and if he was going to toss him out on his ass and refuse to speak to him ever again, well, Tony figured he might as well get that over with too, before he had to drive home in the rain with a road full of drunks too stupid to call for a ride home.

"Abby has just informed me that…due to our drunken one-night stand _before_ you and I decided to get back together…she is pregnant with my child." Tony chose his words carefully, and then studied Jethro's face for a reaction.

The annoyed look on his partners face did not change, but Tony couldn't be sure if it was because Jethro was frozen with shock, or he'd been that annoyed before Tony had told him the news. In the end, it turned out to be the former.

"What?" Jethro finally asked.

"I accidently got Abby pregnant," Tony replied.

"And…and now, what?" Jethro demanded.

"I don't know," Tony admitted.

Why wasn't Jethro screaming at him? Why wasn't he trying to murder him? He was taking this way too well…

"How could you be so stupid?" Jethro finally asked, rubbing his hands over his face, and staring at the ceiling across the room.

"I was really drunk," Tony decided to point out. "I wasn't thinking. I acted very irresponsibly." He wasn't going to put the blame on anybody but himself. It had been his mistake.

"That's an understatement," Jethro muttered.

Tony bit his lip while he waited for what his partner was going to say next. Could he still call him his partner? Did Jethro still want the title? When it didn't appear that Jethro was going to say anything else, Tony sighed. This could not go anyway but badly.

"This changes things," Jethro decided to break his silence.

"I know," Tony nodded. "Believe me, I know. If I could go back in time and take it back, I would. I really would."

NCIS

He really hadn't wanted to go back to his apartment that night, but he had. Jethro needed time to think, or so the man said, but Tony knew it was the end. How could Jethro still want to be with him after what he'd done? Sure, he hadn't intentionally gotten Abby pregnant, but it had happened, and he couldn't take that back. He couldn't expect Jethro to be happy about his mistake.

Sitting at his desk the next morning, Tony's mind was anywhere but on the case. Jethro had yet to show up, and it was only making him crazier. His mind wouldn't stop spinning, coming up with solutions to the problem. By the time Jethro did show up, right on time as usual (though it seemed like he'd been waiting forever), Tony had already decided upon a course of action. Without Jethro, he couldn't keep working at NCIS. Getting him back, only to lose him again was just too much for Tony. He couldn't imagine that Jethro would be too disappointed- after all, how could he want to deal with him on a daily basis knowing Tony had fucked up so badly?

They worked the case all day, leaving Tony no time at all to dwell on his ruined relationship. Obviously he wouldn't quit until after the case was solved. He couldn't leave McGee and Ziva high and dry. Those two were already annoyed with him enough as it was for keeping secrets about his health from them. While they still had no idea the exact extent of his diagnosis- not being told about the initial time bomb at all- they had been informed that he'd been aware of the possibility of an aneurism. He let them believe that the danger was over when he'd gotten back to work. There really was no need for their pity.

NCIS

"Jethro isn't talking to me," Tony complained that evening as he sat on Abby's purple couch, her head resting against his shoulder, and their feet propped up on the coffee table.

"Me, neither," Abby sighed. "He didn't even bring me a caf-pow when he came down for the ballistics report this morning."

"You really shouldn't be drinking caf-pows anymore," Tony pointed out. "All that caffeine can't be good for the baby."

"Stupid baby," Abby muttered, setting a hand against her flat stomach.

"You really can't blame the baby," Tony reasoned with her. "It's not its fault we're idiots."

"I know," Abby sighed. "I'm just…frustrated. I haven't had caffeine in days! Not since I thought I might be…it's really wearing me down. I have no energy."

"Get some sleep than," Tony suggested.

"Hahaha," she responded. "Easy for you to say. I can't sleep! I'm too anxious. I want everything to go back to how it was."

"Perhaps we can entice McGee to make a time machine? He's pretty smart," Tony joked.

"Oh my god!" Abby bolted upright, her hand clapped over her mouth, and her eyes wide. For a second, Tony thought she was going to be sick, but then she turned to face him. "McGee! What are we going to tell McGee? He is going to be so…so…so…"

Tony hadn't thought about McGee and his dying love for all things Abby. He was definitely going to be hassle once he found out about the baby. Really though, could McGee be any worse than Gibbs? The most McGee could do was make him feel guilty and piss him off, which was nothing compared to the heartbreak of losing Jethro.

NCIS

Abby was nervous, and not just because the caffeine withdrawal was taking its toll on her body. She'd called Gibbs down to talk, he was due any moment, and he expected her to have something on their case. Granted, she did have something on the case, but it wasn't anything big, and he was not going to like it…she was so focused on taking deep, relaxing breaths that she didn't notice him come in.

"You have something Abs?" His voice startled her so much she jumped about a foot in the air.

"Gibbs!" She cried. "You scared me!"

"You called me down here," Gibbs reminded her.

"Right," Abby nodded. "I did. I called you to tell you about Petty Officer Riley's finger print match."

"And?" Gibbs prodded.

"And I think you need to forgive Tony," Abby changed the subject.

She saw him visibly retract, taking a step back from her as if she'd hit him. He clearly did not want to talk about the situation with Tony, but she wasn't going to let it go that easily. When did she ever?

"He made a mistake, and he feels really, really bad," Abby tried.

"This is between me and Tony," Gibbs refused.

"Yeah, and if you were handling it, I wouldn't have to say anything at all," Abby pointed out. "He's really upset, Gibbs. He wants to talk to you, but you won't give him the time of day."

"What do you have on the case, Abby?" Gibbs demanded.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Abby refused to budge. She'd called Gibbs down here to talk about Tony, and she was going to get him to talk.

"He's thinking about quitting," Abby announced. "He wants to quit his job because he thinks you hate him."

"He's being ridiculous," Gibbs muttered.

"Tell him that then," Abby said fiercely. "Gibbs, he's freaking out."

"I will handle Tony when I decide to, Abby," Gibbs growled at her.

"You're upset," Abby held up a hand, "I get it. I'd be upset too, but he loves you. He didn't even want to live without you when he thought you'd left him in the hospital. If you just talk to him, you can work things out."

"It's none of your business Abby," Gibbs persisted.

"I don't want to be the reason you and Tony aren't together," Abby shook her head. "He's been crying over you for years, Gibbs, wishing you were together, and now that you've gotten together, I don't want to be the reason that his heart is broken. I don't want me or this baby to be the reason you don't want him. He needs you. He won't say it, but he does."

She had to force herself to breathe again. She was getting too upset.

"Do the fingerprints match or not, Abby?" Gibbs asked, his voice no longer angry.

"No. They don't," Abby sighed. "Riley's prints weren't a match to the one on the murder weapon."

"Dammit!" Gibbs cursed, turning on his heel and leaving the lab.

Abby watched him go hoping he'd take her words to heart. While a part of her wanted all of Tony's attention focused on her and this baby, a bigger part of her wanted him to be happy, and only Gibbs could make him happy.

* * *

**A/N: **Any thoughts? Love it? Hate it? Let me know what you think!


	15. Chapter 15: A Decision

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS.

**A/N: **Sorry for the long wait for this chapter. Life was hectic for a while, and then I was just lazy. I hope the wait was worth it, though.

**Chapter Fifteen**

**A Decision**

His apartment was cold. Not physically, as he'd turned the heater on when he got home, and the air around him was a comfortable 72 degrees, but mentally. He was alone and depressed. Abby had called just after he'd walked in, and they'd chatted for a few moments about their respective days, but when they'd hung up, there'd been nothing to occupy his mind. He'd tried to watch a movie, but had been unable to focus on it and ended up sitting on his couch and staring at the wall across the room.

Tony couldn't say that he knew what was going to happen now. He lost the only person he really wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and while he'd gained a stronger relationship with his best friend and a child of his own, he couldn't really comprehend enjoying this life without Jethro. How could he possibly look forward to a future that didn't involve his soul mate?

The sudden thud of a fist hitting the front door startled him. It was clearly not Abby, and he wasn't expecting anybody else, so for a moment he considered letting it go. With his luck it was probably his rude neighbor, and he certainly didn't want to deal with her. The knocking didn't stop though, and Tony grumbled as he forced himself off the couch and across the room. Without bothering to glance through the peephole, he pulled the door open and almost jumped out of his skin when he realized who was standing on the other side.

"I didn't think…what are you doing here?" Tony asked, stepping out of the way so Jethro could come inside.

His partner was wearing a pair of jeans and had an old jacket pulled over an even older shirt. There was a faint layer of sawdust in his hair, making it plainly obvious he'd been working on his boat before making the unannounced visit.

"Would you have preferred me to stay home?" Jethro countered, making his way into the kitchen and tugging open the fridge to grab a bottle of beer.

"No, of course not," Tony assured him. "I'm just surprised is all."

Jethro Gibbs was not a man to beat around the bush, and Tony was not surprised in the least when he jumped right to the heart of their latest obstacle.

"This thing with Abby, what are you going to do about it?" Jethro asked, sitting down on the couch- the same spot that Tony had just vacated.

"What can I do about it?" Tony replied. "It's done."

"What are your plans?" Jethro rephrased.

"I don't really have any right now," Tony shrugged. "We haven't really talked about any."

"You should," Jethro admonished him. "This kid is going to be here before you know it."

"I know. I guess I'm still trying to wrap my head around this," Tony sighed, dropping onto the other side of the couch and leaning his head back into the cushion behind him.

There was silence between them as Jethro finished his beer and Tony stared at the television without watching the movie he'd put in. When Jethro finished off the beverage some time later, he disposed of the bottle, and Tony watched him toss it into the recycle bin.

"Come on, let's go to bed," Jethro finally broke the silence, leaving the living room via the hallway to the bedroom.

"You're staying?" Tony asked, genuinely surprised by the turn.

"Obviously," was the response.

NCIS

_The kitchen was bathed in warm light, and the scent of tomato and basil was strong in the air. Tony recognized the scent as belonging to the pasta recipe his mother had made when he was just a boy. The pot on the stove was bubbling quietly, and he gave the sauce a few quick stirs with a wooden spoon to keep it from burning to the bottom. It was nearly finished, and just in time to feed the people who were now arriving through the front door._

_ "Daddy!" The squeal of a small voice called out, and it was only a few seconds before small arms wrapped around his legs._

_ "Hi, beautiful," he greeted the small child, ruffling the brown hair on the head that came only to his hip._

_ "Hey," Jethro greeted, pressing a kiss to Tony's cheek before turning to the child. "Go get ready for dinner. It's time to eat."_

_ The child raced off, and Tony flipped off the stove before turning to face his partner. Jethro was dressed in his typical work clothes and smelled strongly of coffee and gunpowder._

_ "I missed you today," Jethro grinned as he laced their fingers together._

_ "I missed you too," Tony assured him with a kiss to the lips. "How's Abby? Did she say what time she's getting back on Sunday?"_

_ "Around 9," Jethro replied. "I told the kid we'd go out for ice cream tomorrow afternoon."_

_ "Yum," Tony grinned before turning back to the stove to put his sauce in a bowl. "Go get washed up for dinner now. Like you said, it's ready."_

_ Jethro went with a sigh, and Tony smiled again. It was going to be a good weekend._

_ Everything was peaceful. The soft music playing on the radio on the window ledge over the sink was his favorite, and he knew the food was going to be delicious. He'd been working on it all afternoon. He'd gone all out on the dinner, and while he hadn't been expecting anybody other than his partner when he started cooking, he was happy to have his kid hanging around for the weekend._

_ "Daddy," the small voice returned as Tony was setting the plates on the table. "Papa said we'd go for ice cream tomorrow."_

_ "I know," Tony smiled. "Perhaps we can convince him to go for a trip to the park as well, if he's not busy working on his boat."_

_ "That would be wonderful!" The child whooped, bouncing around the kitchen with all the energy inherited from both of his biological parents. "We can go to the playground, and throw a Frisbee, and maybe there will be a puppy I can pet!"_

_ Watching his child run around with such wild abandon put an even bigger smile on Tony's face, and the arms that wrapped around his waist to join in watching the excited kid, made him all the happier. He had everything he could ever want._

NCIS

Tony woke up with a smile on his face, thinking about the dream that he'd just woke up from. He was going to be a father. He was going to have a child, and he honestly thought he'd lucked out in the baby momma department. Abby was an amazing woman, his best friend, and she was going to make the best mother. He'd never seen a woman who loved kids as much as she did. Their kid would be lucky to have such a person for a mom.

Turning over to share his dream with Jethro, the smile slid off his face. His partner wasn't in bed. Pushing himself up to a sitting position, Tony scanned the room for any sign of him, but found none. Worried that sometime during the night Jethro had woken up and decided he couldn't handle it, Tony got out of bed and hurried from the bedroom.

He almost jumped when he saw Jethro sitting on the couch reading the morning paper, and he kicked himself for not noticing the aroma of the strong coffee brewing in the pot in the kitchen. He should've known that Jethro wouldn't skip out on him- he hadn't so far, and he'd had to put up with a lot of shit.

"Morning," Tony tried to cover his panic with nonchalance, walking briskly into the kitchen and pouring himself a mug of coffee.

"Morning," Jethro tossed back without looking up from the paper.

He stayed in the front room only long enough to drink his coffee before heading to the bathroom for a shower. Jethro was already dressed and ready for work, and Tony doubted he would be there when he got out, and he wasn't wrong.

"I'm leaving," Jethro said, sticking his head into the bathroom only five minutes after Tony had stepped beneath the flow of water. "I'll see you at work."

"Drive safe," Tony replied as he lathered his hair with shampoo.

He wasn't expecting the shower curtain to be pulled back a few minutes later, and he definitely wasn't expecting Jethro to step into the shower, naked. His body was pinned to the shower wall before he really could tell what was going on, and Jethro was pressing kisses against his neck and shoulders.

"I thought you were leaving," Tony laughed.

"I changed my mind," was the response. "I'm running early."

"Then by all means, have your way with me," Tony told him, reaching an arm back to wrap around Jethro's neck.

"It's gotta be quick," Jethro breathed into his ear before nibbling on the lobe. "You can't be late or your boss will kill you."

"I think I can persuade him not to," Tony assured him.

"Easily," Jethro agreed.

NCIS

The day passed painfully slow, much to Tony's chagrin. All he wanted was to be at home with Jethro, wrapped in his lovers arms, and indulging in certain physical activities that weren't appropriate in the workplace. Of course, the more he thought about going home, the more he thought about the dream he'd had the previous night.

In his dream, everything had been perfect. He'd had the perfect lover, the perfect child, and the perfect platonic relationship with Abby. Thinking about it made him smile, which made Ziva and McGee send him inquiring glances as they worried over his sanity.

His thoughts changed after lunch though, when reality began to set in. He had the most perfect future laid out ahead of him, but there was no guarantee that he'd live long enough to see that future play out. There was no guarantee that he'd ever even get to see his child. There was no guarantee that his child wouldn't walk into the kitchen one afternoon and find him dead on the floor.

By the time the end of the day had come around, Tony knew what he had to do, and it broke his heart.

* * *

**A/N: **So what did you think? Let me know!

**And, **don't forget to check out This Ren on facebook!


	16. Chapter 16: Prospects

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS.

**A/N: **After much thought, I decided to revamp the entire ending of this story. In order for this new ending to work, this story is going to be exponentially longer than I originally planned, and while I will not tell you what exactly I have changed, know that it is very different from the original ending I had planned and worked on before. I am enjoying writing this new path for Till Death Do We Part, and I hope that you will enjoy it as well!

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Prospects**

"Why are you so quiet?" Jethro asked on Saturday night as they sat on the couch, cuddled together and watching a movie of Tony's choosing.

Earlier in the day, Tony had shown up at his partner's house without calling and insisted they spend the day together. Jethro, who had been working on his boat at the time, had put up a very minimal fight before returning upstairs with Tony. They had gone for a jog before showering and having a romantic dinner at one of Tony's favorite restaurants. When they'd returned home, Tony had put the movie on without asking if Jethro wanted to watch it, and insisted that they end the evening together. Jethro had given him a look at the time, but had gone with it, sitting on the couch and enveloping Tony in his arms the moment Tony sat down.

"I'm watching a movie," Tony responded, his eyes never leaving the screen.

"And usually you tell me the end before we get to the middle," Jethro pointed out, stroking a hand through the hair on the back of Tony's head. "What's going on? You ok?"

"I'm fine," Tony sighed, turning over so he could look at his partner.

Jethro simply stared at him, waiting for the explanation.

"I've been thinking lately," Tony finally admitted, pausing before he continued with, "there's this Neurosurgeon in New York who might be able to remove the aneurism."

"What's the bad news?" Jethro wondered, catching the tone of Tony's voice when he spoke.

"The odds aren't too good that I'll make it out of the surgery," Tony replied.

"What are the odds?" Jethro inquired.

"25/75. Less than 50 percent chance that I'll make it through," Tony told him.

"And if you don't do the surgery? What makes the surgery a better option?"

"Without the surgery, I'm a ticking time bomb," Tony said. "This thing could go off at any moment, and there won't be anything anybody could do. With the surgery, if it works and it doesn't kill me, there won't be an aneurism to worry about."

Jethro was silent as he processed what Tony was telling him. It wasn't clear to him what exactly Tony wanted him to say. Luckily for him, Tony spoke before he could say anything at all.

"I have a consult with the neurosurgeon on Monday morning at his office in New York. He has my CT scans, but he wants to run some more tests before he'll agree to take on the case," Tony sat up and turned to face his partner.

"And this is something that you want to do," Jethro murmured.

"It's something I want to look into," Tony corrected him. "If there's a chance that I don't have to worry about dying at any moment, I think it's worth a second look."

Jethro couldn't disagree. Tony's condition was not a good one, and the thought of losing the man he loved was beyond hard, but this was risky. Did he want to risk Tony dying on an operating room table when he could have several years left in him? Just because he had the aneurism didn't mean that he was going to die soon. Was the low chance of survival to much of a risk?

"Let's just look into it," Tony pleaded.

With a sigh, Jethro asked, "have you spoken to Abby about this?"

"No," Tony admitted, and Jethro was surprised. "This isn't about Abby. She's my best friend, and she's having my baby, yes, but this is about me, and this is my decision and I don't want or need her input."

Jethro quirked an eyebrow at him.

"You are my partner," Tony continued. "You have a right to an opinion when it comes to this, and your opinion is the only one I want."

"This affects Abby more than it affects me," Jethro shook his head. "She's the one who's going to be raising your baby alone if you don't come through this. I think she has just as much right to an opinion as I do."

Tony stared at him with narrowed eyes, and Jethro knew he'd said the wrong thing. It was the truth and it needed to be said, but it had definitely not been what Tony wanted to hear.

"You're having a baby," Jethro said, knowing that even though it wasn't what Tony wanted to hear, he needed to finish his argument. "Not letting Abby voice her own opinions on the matter is selfish. You need to think about her, and you need to think about this baby."

"I am thinking about this baby," Tony snapped, turning away and shoving his feet into his leather slip on shoes beneath the coffee table.

"You're overreacting,"Jethro told him, reaching out to take Tony's arm, but the younger man pulled it out of his grasp as he stood up, grabbed his car keys, and stomped away.

Tony was gone before Jethro could blink, and he dropped back against the couch with a sigh. That had certainly not been how he wanted to end the night.

NCIS

Jethro called him several times after he left, and he called him a few more times on Sunday, but Tony didn't answer the phone. He stayed away from his apartment so he wouldn't have to deal with his partner showing up uninvited, and that evening, he boarded a plane to New York without calling to let Jethro know where he was going. He called McGee to let him know he wouldn't be in for the work the next day when he landed in New York.

He didn't care if Jethro thought he was being selfish. He was going to go to this consult whether his partner approved of it or not. This was not Jethro's decision, and it wasn't Abby's decision either. It was his.

The hotel he checked into wasn't a super nice one, but he didn't care. He also didn't bother to call his father to see if he was in town. He didn't want to see the older man who had neglected him as a child. Truth be told, if he wanted anybody with him, it was Jethro, and only Jethro, but since Jethro didn't want to be there, Tony was resolved to going alone.

He barely slept at all that night, and when the next morning dawned bright and early, he downed three cups of coffee from the corner Starbucks before he headed for the neurosurgeons office.

He was the only person in the waiting room, and he checked in with the receptionist, who smiled at him and told him the doctor would be with him soon. He sat on the edge of his seat, nerves getting to him as he waited, until a woman stepped out of a solid oak door to the left of the receptionists desk and beckoned him back to see the doctor.

NCIS

Jethro was not a happy man, and everybody in the building was aware of it. He'd left several voice messages for Tony since he'd left the house on Saturday night, but none of his calls had been returned. That alone had annoyed him, but he'd figured that he'd at least see Tony at work on Monday morning. He wouldn't go to New York without telling him, would he? Apparently he would. Getting the message from McGee that he wasn't coming in to work that day annoyed Jethro more than anything else.

Part of him wanted to buy a ticket to New York and track Tony down to give him a piece of his mind. He should have picked up his phone when he called, or returned a phone call. He should have told him he was still going to New York. Jethro was worried about what was going on in New York, and what was going through Tony's head in regards to his options, and he wanted to be there to give him a head slap and put his mind back on track. Another part of him wanted to tell Tony he could go fuck himself. Jethro didn't want to deal with a grown man who was acting like a spoiled child that hadn't gotten his way. Tony obviously wasn't thinking about him or their relationship.

Before he could make up his mind about what he was going to do, he was accosted by Abby and dragged into the elevator for a private conversation.

"Tony has been avoiding me," Abby declared without waiting for Jethro ask her what was going on. "Did you say something to him? Did you tell him that you didn't want him to be around me anymore because of the baby? I can understand if you did, but I won't forgive you for it!"

Abby gave him another reason to be pissed off at Tony.

"I didn't say anything to him," Jethro interjected before she could keep talking. "I've encouraged him to be there for you and his child."

Abby's anger faded, and she visibly deflated before him.

"Why is he avoiding me then?" She asked. "I called him a million times this weekend. I wanted him to come with me to my doctor's appointment this afternoon to check out the baby. I thought he might like too, but he's not answering his phone and he's not returning my calls, or my text messages, or my e-mails! And he didn't even bother showing up today! This is unlike him. I'm worried."

If he wasn't so used to Abby and her rambling, he might not have been able to follow her rant.

"He's off being an idiot," Jethro told her. "I pissed him off during the weekend, and he ran off to New York."

"What? Why would he go to New York? What's in New York? What did you do, Gibbs?"

Had he not been so angry with Tony for his childish behavior, Jethro might have considered not telling Abby what Tony was doing- after all, his partner had specifically said he didn't want to tell Abby what was going on, and he wasn't one to break somebody's confidence- he might have kept his mouth shut.

"He's consulting with a neurosurgeon about killing himself," Jethro said darkly, and Abby clapped her hands over her mouth and nose in alarm.

He wasn't thinking about the situation clearly. Obviously Tony wasn't going to have the surgery because he wanted to die, but Jethro wasn't thinking about Tony's motivations right then. He was thinking about how this was going to turn out for him, and for Abby, and for the baby that his partner was not thinking about. In his mind, all that mattered was the odds, and 25 percent wasn't good enough for him.

"Apparently some doctor in New York thinks he can remove the aneurism, but it's more likely that he'll just kill Tony on the table," Jethro explained after taking a deep breath, trying to calm down his rage. "The odds are bad."

"How bad?" Abby asked, and he could see in her eyes that same conflict that had brewed in his own mind just days before.

"Bad," was all Jethro said.

"Tony wouldn't do it if it were that bad," Abby said, but it was clear she didn't believe her own words.

"He's not thinking clearly right now," Jethro told her.

"Have you called him?"

"More than you, I'm sure," Jethro nodded. "I disagreed with him about the surgery and he refuses to talk to me."

It was Abby who voiced the concern that had just begun to claw at his insides. "You don't think he'll have the surgery without telling us, do you?"

"I hope not," Jethro sighed, pulling her into a hug as she began to crumble.

NCIS

It wasn't until early afternoon that the additional tests were completed and he was sitting in a conference with the neurosurgeon, Dr. Parker, waiting to hear what the conclusion was. He'd been poked and prodded, evaluated numerous times, and sat through several more brain scans all day and he just wanted to know what was going to happen next. Could the doctor do as he'd said he could do?

"I've gone over everything we've got," the doctor said from across the table, a file open in front of him, "and I believe you're a good candidate for the surgery."

"When can you do it?" Tony asked.

"Every second that we wait, the closer we are to it rupturing," Dr. Parker responded. "I'd like to perform the surgery as soon as possible. If you're up for it, we can do it as soon as tomorrow morning."

"The odds are still the same?" Tony asked.

"Unfortunately, yes. The aneurism is deep, and removing it and repairing the artery is going to be a difficult job, but I believe it's possible," Dr. Parker informed him.

Tony nodded stiffly, and the young doctor at the neurosurgeons side piped up.

"Mr. DiNozzo, I know this is scary," she told him, reaching across the table to take his hand in hers. "The odds aren't good, but if you don't do the surgery, your chances of survival are a lot lower. The longer you wait, the less time you have to repair this. When it ruptures, you're out of time."

"I know," Tony assured her.

* * *

**A/N: **I know I've said in the past that there would be no miracle cure, and there's not, but I did decide to give Tony another option...blame it on the fact that I've recently begun watching Grey's Anatomy.

**Also, **there's a lot of discombobulation in this chapter. Tony didn't explain why he wanted the surgery so Jethro doesn't get his feelings behind the decision, and Jethro is positive that the surgery is going to kill Tony, so he's scared and doesn't want him to have it because he thinks he'll live longer if he doesn't go through with it.

**Please, **let me know what you think by leaving a review! You can also check out This Ren on Facebook!


	17. Chapter 17: The Last Night

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS.

**A/N: **In the past, I have had no luck is posting chapters of this story on Sundays, but I couldn't find a reason other than that to not post this next one.

**Chapter Seventeen**

**The Last Night**

Jethro was really starting to worry as the time ticked by, Abby's question in the elevator playing over and over again in his mind. Tony wouldn't go ahead with the surgery without talking to him, would he? That weekend he'd just wanted his opinion on the option itself. They hadn't talked about whether he would have the surgery. He knew it was Tony's decision no matter what, but he'd still consult with him, right? He'd still tell Abby that he was going to have surgery, wouldn't he?

They were out at a crime scene, the body of a Navy Lieutenant had been found in a field, when his cell phone went off. His heart nearly stopped when he read Tony's name on the caller ID.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" He demanded into the phone without a greeting, causing Ziva and McGee to look over at him.

"Well hello to you too," Tony returned from the other end of the line.

"You had better give me a good reason why I shouldn't fire you, and even better reason why I shouldn't kill you," Jethro snapped.

"You love me?" Tony suggested.

Jethro was not in the mood to play Tony's game.

"I'm not feeling very loving today," was his angry retort, and he could almost hear Tony recoil on the other end of the phone.

"I don't see why you thought I wouldn't go to the consult," Tony replied, his voice hard. "I told you about it on Saturday. You're the one with the problem, not me."

"You aren't thinking," Jethro responded.

"I'm thinking just fine, thank you," Tony disagreed. "And you shouldn't have gone off and told Abby. It wasn't your place."

"Somebody had to tell her," Jethro snarled, knowing he should have realized that Abby would have told Tony she knew.

"I would have told her," Tony snapped.

"Then you should have," Jethro responded.

"I didn't call to argue with you," Tony sighed after a moment of strained silence passed by.

"What do you want then?" Jethro demanded, his anger still flaring.

"As you're my boss, I called to inform you that I won't be at work tomorrow," Tony answered.

"If you're not here tomorrow, you're fired," Jethro said automatically, and Ziva and McGee looked over at him again. "We have a case. If you're not going to do your job, you're not going to work for me."

"You can't fire me," Tony responded.

"Watch me," Jethro said.

He wouldn't really fire him, and he was sure that Tony knew it. He was pissed off and there was nobody, logically, else to vent at. Tony was the one who wouldn't talk to him. Tony was the one who wanted some crazy surgery. Tony was the one who was planning on leaving him.

"I already put in for medical leave, effective immediately. Vance signed off on it. You can't fire me while I'm on medical leave, you know that," Tony told him matter-of-factly.

Medical leave. That one phrase answered every question that Jethro had been wondering about all day.

"The surgery is scheduled for first thing in the morning. Abby is flying out here tonight," Tony said quietly.

"You're not even going to discuss this with me?" Jethro asked.

"This is my decision, and you don't understand, and you don't seem interested in my reasoning," Tony protested.

"You're not thinking, Tony," Jethro responded.

"I am thinking," Tony told him. "I've done a lot of thinking. This is what's best for me."

"You're going to get yourself killed," Jethro objected.

"There's a 25 percent chance that I won't die," Tony reminded him. "That's better than a 24 percent chance."

"That's not good enough," Jethro sighed.

"It's the best chance I've got," Tony said. "I want you here, Jethro. I love you, and you mean more to me than anybody. I'm doing this, and I know you don't like that, but I want you here. I need you to be here."

NCIS

Tony had never liked being in the hospital, but he kept telling himself that his torment was worth it. The uncomfortable bed, and the nurses who kept prodding at him and interrupting him, and the terrible food were all worth it. Dr. Parker was going to get rid of the time bomb in his head, and he was going to be fine. He was going to live through this, he was going to have the chance to be a father. He was going to have the chance to grow old with Jethro. This was going to make his life a whole lot easier and happier. A short stay in the hospital was worth that.

"Tony!" Abby's voice cut across the stillness of his room, and she was practically on top of him before he had the chance to greet her.

"I'm glad you came, Abs," Tony smiled against her shoulder as she hugged him tightly.

"I had to come. I just wish you'd talked to me about all of this," Abby replied, pulling back to scowl at him.

"I wanted to do this myself," he sighed, feeling guilty for keeping her in the dark, but not regretting it. "It was a me thing."

"I know," Abby sighed, taking both of his hands in hers. "I get it."

"The both of you are idiots," Jethro interrupted their tender moment, and they both looked over to see him standing on the other side of the room.

"Gibbs," Abby complained. "You said you were going to be nice."

"I will be nice," Jethro replied, refusing to meet Tony's eyes. "But I'm not going to ignore the fact that you're both being idiots."

"How am I being an idiot?" Abby demanded.

"Neither of you are thinking about that baby," Jethro snapped, waving towards her flat stomach. "Tony's decided to have his head cut open, and you don't even care that he's doing it."

"Of course I care!" Abby objected. "I'm terrified Gibbs, but right now I- and you too- need to support him. It's been proven that if you go into the surgery knowing that there are people waiting for you, you're more likely to pull through."

"Be supportive, but don't act like this doesn't matter," Jethro told her. "If he dies, that kid won't have a father. Don't tell me his disregard for his own life doesn't piss you off. Neither of you are thinking about the baby."

Tony looked down at the bed and blinked away the emotions that were threatening to surface. He needed to keep it together if he was going to be fine.

"The baby will be fine, Gibbs," Abby assured the older man. "Right now we need to focus on Tony."

"No, right now we need to think about what's best for everybody involved here, not just Tony," Jethro disagreed.

"Jethro," Tony sighed, turning his eyes on his partner. "Can we talk about this later? Can't we just try to have a pleasant evening right now? Tomorrow, after the surgery, you can bitch me out all you want for whatever you want, but right now, tonight, can't we just not argue about this."

"And if you don't come out of the surgery, who am I supposed to voice my opinions too, then?" Jethro asked him.

"Stop it," Abby intervened, standing up from the bed and laying both of her hands flat against Jethro's chest. "Tony is going to be fine. He's going to be more than fine. He's going to be better. He is NOT going to die. Do you hear me?"

"We need to be realistic," Jethro disagreed with her.

"We need to stop fighting," Abby scolded him.

"Abby, could you please go get me something to drink? I'm dying of thirst," Tony intervened.

"Don't you have some water in that pitcher right there?" Abby wondered, indicating the pink plastic container right beside him on the lap table he'd pushed aside.

Looking at it, Tony reached out a hand and smacked the pitcher, sending the small amount of water all over the table. Abby glared at him.

"Nope. It's empty," Tony told her with a cheeky grin. "Can you please go get me some more? I'll love you forever."

"You'll already love me forever," Abby told him before she disappeared out of the room.

"We," Tony indicated him and Jethro with a hand, "will talk privately later, when Abby goes back to the hotel. Can you please just relax and pretend to be supportive until then? When we're alone you can yell at me all you want, but I don't want to do this in front of Abby. This is between you and me."

"Nothing is between you and me anymore," Jethro muttered, just as Abby walked back into the room with a nurse.

"What happened here?" The nurse wondered, picking up the pitcher Tony had knocked over and mopping up the spilled water with a couple of paper towels.

"Sorry, I had on accident," Tony apologized, giving the nurse a dazzling smile.

"It's quite alright," she assured him, patting his shoulder as she finished cleaning up his mess. "Here's another pitcher here. Let me know if you need anything."

"Thank you," he said as she left.

"Is everything okay?" Abby asked as she looked between the two men in the room.

Tony turned his eyes on a still angry Jethro, waiting for him to speak, hoping he would do as he'd asked him too.

"Everything fine," Jethro assured her after a moment, and she accepted the answer with a smile, flopping down onto the hospital bed beside Tony and beginning a longwinded account of one of the cute nurses she'd passed on her way to the nurse's station.

NCIS

"It's getting late," Jethro said around ten, as Abby's eyes began to droop.

"Maybe you should head back to the hotel to get some sleep," Tony agreed, nudging Abby with his shoulder.

She was laying on the bed beside him, sharing half of his pillow and holding his hand. Tony was sure it was more for her own comfort than his. She nodded at the suggestion and stood up, stretching out her long arms fluidly, like a cat. Jethro pulled the rental car keys from his pocket and handed them towards her.

"You're not coming?" She asked as she took them.

"No. I'll catch a cab back to the hotel later tonight," he replied, his eyes on Tony, who stared right back.

"I'll stay until you're ready to go," Abby said.

"You need your rest Abs," Jethro refused. "The baby needs you to take care of yourself."

"I'll be fine," Abby insisted.

"He wants some alone time with me," Tony clued her in. "You know, in case I die tomorrow and all."

"Don't talk like that, Tony," Abby scolded him. "You're going to be fine."

"Yes, I will, but Jethro still wants some alone time with me," Tony said.

"Okay," she sighed, leaning down to hug him before grabbing her purse and heading for the door. "I'll be back before you go in for surgery in the morning. Just keep thinking positively."

"I will. Goodnight Abs," Tony said.

It was a good few minutes after Abby left before either of the men in the room made a move.

"You can come sit with me," Tony suggested, patting the spot on the bed that Abby had just vacated.

"I don't want to," Jethro replied, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at Tony.

There was silence for a few minutes before Tony broke it.

"Is this the end for us?" He wondered quietly, staring at the blanket covering his legs. "Are we breaking up?"

Jethro sighed. "If we were breaking up I wouldn't have bothered to come. I'm pissed off, Tony. There's a difference."

"I know you're upset, but you won't even listen to me," Tony said.

"You have yet to give me anything substantial worth listening to," Jethro replied.

"Because you won't listen. You just start yelling," Tony pointed out. "For once, will you just listen to what I have to say? I have a reason for this."

"I'm listening," Jethro finally relented.

"My mom died when I was a kid. She had a brain aneurism and it ruptured, and I found her dead on the kitchen floor," Tony told him, twisting the blanket between his fingers.

"You've told me this," Jethro reminded him.

"I know, and when it hit me that I was going to be a father, I realized that I was going to do the same thing to my kid that happened to me when I was little and I don't want to do that. I don't want to take that risk," Tony admitted. "I don't want to put my kid through that. I don't want to put you and Abby through that."

"So your answer is to kill yourself with some crazy surgery before the aneurism can rupture?" Jethro demanded.

"No," Tony cried before settling down. They were going to have an adult conversation no matter how much Jethro pushed him. "Don't you understand Jethro? There are risks either way. If I don't have this surgery, the aneurism is eventually going to rupture on its own. There's no telling when that could happen, but when it does there's no chance. At least with the surgery there's a chance, even if it isn't as high as we'd like it to be."

Jethro stared at him, and Tony waited. He'd said what he needed to say, and it was up to Jethro to accept it. There was silence for longer than he would have liked, but then Jethro stood up from his chair. At first Tony thought his partner was going to leave the room, leave him there, but instead, he sat down in the spot that Abby had just vacated and pulled Tony against his chest. He hadn't realized just how much he'd missed snuggling into his partner's broad chest.

"I don't want to have to worry about not waking up every time I go to sleep. I don't want to have to worry about dropping dead in the middle of the kitchen. I don't want to worry about letting you or Ziva or McGee down if something were to happen while we were working a case. I'm scared that I won't come out of the surgery alive, Jethro, but I'm more scared of building a life and having it taken away," Tony burst out, burying his face in Jethro's chest, and fisting his shirt in his hands.

"It's going to be fine," Jethro insisted, squeezing him tighter. "You're going to be fine."

"I know you don't approve of this," Tony said softly, but before he could continue Jethro interrupted him.

"I love you Tony, and if this is what you want, then I'll support you," Jethro said assured him. "I don't like it. The thought of losing you scares me."

"I'll be okay," Tony insisted.

"I'll hold you to that," Jethro whispered in return.

* * *

**A/N: **So what do you think? I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	18. Chapter 18: Surgery

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS. Not even a little piece of it.

**Chapter Eighteen**

**Surgery**

"I'm here, I'm here," Abby cried the following morning as she rushed into Tony's hospital room, startling both of the men on the bed awake. "Oops. Sorry. I was running late."

"I'm not going into surgery for another hour," Tony reminded her, looking at the clock on his cell phone on the table beside him.

"I know," Abby said breathlessly, dropping into the chair that Jethro had abandoned for the bed the night before. "I just wanted to be here early so we could spend some time together before you go into surgery."

"I need coffee," Jethro muttered as he rubbed his face.

"Go get some," Tony said, pulling himself off of his partner with a yawn. "It won't take long, and we're not going anywhere."

"Okay." Jethro pressed a soft kiss against his lips before forcing himself off the bed and heading out of the room.

Tony watched him go, feeling like a piece of himself was walking away with him and hoping he wouldn't be gone for too long. He needed a few moments alone with Abby though.

"How was your night?" Abby asked, quirking an eyebrow at him and a teasing grin on her face.

"It would have been better if I was at home in my own bed," Tony shrugged. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Decently," Abby responded, reaching forward to take his hand. "You know how I am when it comes to hotels."

He nodded in understanding before lacing their fingers together. He was happy she was there. As his best friend, she knew things about him that not even Jethro was aware of. She deserved an explanation from him.

"I'm going to be okay, Abs," he started off by saying.

"I know you are," Abby assured him with a small smile. "You're the strongest person I know."

"If I don't come out of this though," he tried, but Abby interrupted.

"Don't talk like that. You're going to be fine," she scolded him.

"I know, but if something goes wrong, I need to say this," Tony told her, squeezing her hand. "If I don't come out of this, I want you to take care of Jethro. He's already pretty freaked out, he's going to need somebody to be there for him, and so will you…and the baby will need some kind of male influence."

"You know he's always got me, Tony," Abby said. "Don't worry about that. All you need to concern yourself with is getting through this."

He squeezed her hand again with a small smile.

NCIS

Jethro sat beside Abby in the family waiting room as they waited for the surgery. They'd spoken with the doctor for a few moments before they took Tony down to prep for surgery, and Jethro hadn't felt reassured by the conversation. It was the first time he'd met Dr. Parker since arriving the evening before, and while the doctor seemed confident in his abilities and his credentials were exceptional, the list of risks he'd been left with had only made him worry even more.

Death was just the tip of the ice burg. Tony was risking irreversible brain damage, loss of memory, seizures, and many other unpleasant sounding conditions that Jethro didn't want to dwell on. The likelihood of him coming out of the surgery completely unscathed was worse than the odds of him coming out alive. Abby was trying to stay optimistic, but Jethro wasn't catching on.

An hour into the surgery, he turned to her.

"Did you tell McGee about the baby?" He wondered.

He didn't know why he cared whether she told McGee. He knew that the junior agent on the team was not going to be happy to find out Abby was expecting Tony's baby, but McGee's emotional problems with the pregnancy weren't his concern. As long as it didn't affect his job, he didn't care if McGee never spoke to either of them again.

"No. I'm waiting until I hit the second trimester before I tell anybody," Abby answered. "I've only told Tony, and obviously he had to tell you. You guys are the only people who know."

"He's not going to be happy," Jethro sighed.

"No, he's not," Abby agreed. "He just needs to get over it though. This baby is a blessing, and he or she is coming into a world where they have a whole bunch of people who love and care about them."

"Yeah," Jethro agreed.

NCIS

A while later, Jethro wondered if he should call DiNozzo Senior. Didn't he deserve to know that his son was going through a surgery the he more than likely wouldn't come out of? He might not like the man, but he was Tony's father, and wouldn't Tony want him to know? He consulted with Abby, who suddenly realized that nobody but the two of them knew about the surgery, and insisted that he make the call.

DiNozzo Senior ended up not answering the phone, so Jethro left him a message with his phone number, insisting he call back as soon as possible. Two hours later Jethro still hadn't heard back from him, and it irritated him. Hadn't he said it was important? The man might not know that he and Tony were together, but he should still have the courtesy to return the call of his son's boss. For all he knew, Tony could have been shot in the line of duty, or killed.

He called Ducky to let him know that Tony was having surgery when he'd become tired of listening to Abby's ramblings and waiting for Senior to return his call. Ducky had scolded him for not alerting him to the surgery, but was easily persuaded to stay in D.C. to help Ziva and McGee finish the case while he was absent.

When he hung up with Ducky he got himself another cup of coffee and returned the waiting room, where Abby told him that she hadn't heard anything. With a sigh, he sat down to wait, hoping beyond hope that Tony was hanging on. No news was good news, right? It had to mean that Tony wasn't dead.

NCIS

Ducky knew that Tony didn't want many people knowing about his condition. He'd spoken with the young man's doctor when he'd been hospitalized when the first aneurism had ruptured a month earlier and had discovered all of the details. When McGee had informed him that morning that both Jethro and Abby had taken the day off work for unnamed reasons, he'd worried that something had happened to Anthony during the night. Getting the call from Jethro had neither reassured him or upset him.

He was disappointed that Anthony hadn't felt the need to consult him when it came to the surgery. He had read up on the procedure and was familiar with the doctor who was preforming the operation, though he didn't know him personally. He would have liked to have had the opportunity to be there so he could hear the knowledge of Anthony's condition first hand. When Jethro had insisted he not come to the hospital, it had saddened him, but he knew he was better off staying at work and holding the fort down.

Ziva and McGee had already been down to Autopsy several times that morning to complain about the temporary, stand in forensic specialist that had been called in. Rita was no Abby, but Ducky had no issues with her- he was almost positive that McGee was only concerned because Abby hadn't told him where she was going or what she was doing. The boy had it bad for their Abigail, and while sometimes it was cute, just as often it was irritating.

Where was Abby, they wanted to know. Where was Gibbs, they wanted to know. Where was Tony, they wanted to know. Ducky was getting tired of their constant badgering. Yes, he liked company, but he was trying to get work done as well, and between that and Mr. Palmers constant quizzing, he was getting annoyed, especially once he found out about the surgery taking place.

"Has Gibbs called you?" Ziva asked arriving with McGee only a few moments after he got off the phone with the man in question.

"I just got off the phone with him," Ducky admitted, setting his scalpel down and moving away from the body he had not yet opened on the table. "He and Abby are both fine."

"They're together?" McGee questioned, his eyebrows piquing. "What are they doing?"

He considered not telling them. If Tony had really wanted them to know that he was having brain surgery, he would have told them certainly. However, he was their friend, and they did deserve to know that he could very well die.

"They are waiting for Anthony to get out of surgery," Ducky finally told him. "He is having an operation to repair an aneurism in his brain."

They stood in shocked silence for a few moments before Ziva broke it.

"Why didn't they say anything? Why didn't Tony tell us he was having surgery?" She demanded, her brow furrowing and her hands on her hips.

"I cannot say. I just learned of it this morning," Ducky admitted to her. "You will have to ask him that."

"We should be there with him," McGee said.

"He didn't want a lot of people there," Ducky shook his head. "He didn't want very many people to know what was going on. Only Abigail and Jethro were aware of the details."

"What hospital is he at?" Ziva demanded, and it was clear that she was fully intent on going there.

"Not in town," Ducky told her. "He went to see a specialist in New York. Jethro wants you to focus on the case. He said he'd call when he had more information."

"How are we supposed to focus on the case when Tony is having his brain cut open by some doctor in New York?" Ziva demanded.

"You had better figure out a way," Ducky informed her. "It'll be a few more hours yet before the surgery is completed. I don't anticipate finding anything out before then."

When they left the room he was only half sure that they weren't going to abandon the case and fly up to New York to sit in the waiting room with Abigail and Jethro. He understood their feelings- wasn't he feeling the same?- but Jethro was adamant about them saying in D.C. and he wasn't going to disregard his friends wishes. He was sure that Jethro knew what he was doing.

NCIS

The time frame they'd been given for the surgery had passed, and there was still no word on Tony's condition. Jethro was really starting to worry. What was taking so long? Why hadn't they been told anything yet? Was Tony dead? He was starting to panic, and he could tell that Abby was worrying even more with each passing second as well.

Jethro was just about go find someone to demand information from when Dr. Parker and his young, female co-surgeon appeared in the waiting room. Every family in the room turned to look at the doctor as he approached, all waiting for word on their own loved ones, but the doctor bypassed everybody, stopping right in front of Jethro and Abby, who stood up to greet him, both anxious to hear what happened.

"Let's sit down," the doctor suggested, motioning towards the chairs that had just been vacated and pulling two more over to sit in front of them before he began discussing the case. "The surgery took longer than we anticipated. There was a complication."

"What kind of complication?" Jethro demanded, his heart seizing in his chest as he considered the implications of the doctors words.

"The aneurysm ruptured," Dr. Parker answered.

* * *

**A/N: **Uh oh...a ruptured aneurysm is not a good thing.

Don't forget to review! I love hearing your thoughts!


	19. Chapter 19: After the Surgery

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS.

**A/N: **I'd like to thank everybody who reviewed the last chapter. I was unable to respond individually to your reviews, but I really appreciated getting them! I love hearing what you think, and reviews definitely make my day a whole lot brighter!

**Also, **I was very evil by ending the last chapter as I did. Hopefully this chapter will make up for it.

**Chapter Nineteen**

**After the Surgery**

"What does that mean?" Abby asked, her voice shaky as she grabbed Jethro's hand and squeezed it.

"Had we not already been in his brain, we wouldn't have been able to repair the damage in time to save his life. He's very lucky," Dr. Parker answered. "Fortunately, we were able to repair the artery and he came through the surgery, but as far as side effects, we're going to have to wait for him to wake up."

"But he's alive?" Jethro said. "He's alive, and he's breathing?"

"Yes," Dr. Parker nodded. "I can't say if the ruptured aneurism or the surgery caused any brain damage at this point in time, but we'll be able to tell what steps need to be taken next when he wakes up. Hopefully that won't take too long."

"Can we see him?" Abby begged.

"He's in recovery right now. They're going to take him back to his room in just a bit and you'll be able to see him then. I'll have a nurse come out and let you know," Dr. Parker answered.

They thanked the doctor profusely, as well as his co-surgeon, who smiled at them in return, before the pair disappeared. Abby threw her arms around him, and he squeezed her tightly, feeling better than he had in days. While there were still several questions that needed to be answered, at least Tony was alive, and as far as he cared, that was all that mattered. He would deal with whatever complications arose in the future later.

It wasn't long before a nurse, short and pretty, let them know that Tony was back in his room. Abby practically ran down the halls behind the woman, and Jethro couldn't help but laugh at her eagerness.

Entering the room, however, he sobered. There was a white bandage wrapped around Tony's head, and an IV lead from his arm to a bag beside the bed. He was hooked up to a monitor that beeped with each beat of his heart. Jethro didn't like seeming him like that, but he reassured himself that Tony was alive before taking a seat in chair beside his bed, and reaching for his limp hand.

NCIS

Tony wasn't exactly sure where he was. His head was killing him, and light was too bright, and the beeping that punctuated the air on a constant basis was irritating. His throat and mouth were dry, and he was dying of thirst. His arms felt like they were attached to lead weights. It took him a few moments to realize that he wasn't alone in the room.

"What happened?" He managed to croak out through his dry throat, and the man in the chair beside his bed jerked awake quickly.

"Hey," Gibbs smiled at him, leaning forward.

"What happened?" Tony repeated himself, turning his head to look for something to drink.

His head felt funny- all foggy and dense. He didn't remember going to the hospital, though he was clearly in one.

"You had surgery," Gibbs responded, taking his hand. "You've been out for a day and a half. Abby just left for the hotel."

Abby? Hotel? It didn't make much sense to him.

"I'm going to call the nurse to let her know you're awake," Gibbs finally said, patting his hand before standing up.

The older man was only gone for a few moments, but returned with a pretty, young nurse who smiled at him when she saw that he was awake. Something about her looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place what it was.

"I paged Dr. Parker. He'll be here in just a few minutes. He's going to be so happy to see that you're awake. We were all worried about you," the nurse told him and she fiddled with the machine beside his bed. "Are you feeling any discomfort? Can I get you anything?"

"My head hurts," Tony admitted, reaching up to indicate where but pulling his hand away when he felt the thick gauze. "What happened to me? Why am I here?"

"The doctor will be here shortly," she replied, patting his arm.

NCIS

Jethro called Abby and Ducky while he waited in the hallway for the doctor to finish examining Tony. He would have stayed in the room had his partner not kept looking at him to answer all of the questions and gotten frustrated when Jethro refused to help him. They certainly couldn't gauge any problems if he gave Tony all of the answers.

Abby insisted she would return to the hospital immediately, but Jethro told her not too. She could come back in the morning when Tony was feeling a bit better. She'd protested fiercely but had eventually agreed to wait. Ducky, as well, wanted to fly up from New York to see the young man, but Jethro told him to stay in D.C.. Tony wasn't going to want a million visitors. His friends at home could wait until he returned to the city before they could see him.

"You can come back in now," the nurse fetched him just as he was hanging up with Ducky.

Tony was looking considerably uneasy, and Jethro hurried to his side to take his hand as the doctor turned to address him.

"Some memory loss isn't uncommon. I'll check in on him in the morning to see if he's doing any better. Right now he doesn't seem to be having any troubling neurological issues," Dr. Parker said. "I'm going to schedule a CT and an MRI for tomorrow, and if those come back clear, I don't see why he should have to stay in this place for too much longer."

Jethro thanked the doctor and shook his hand, and the man left. The nurse patted him on the shoulder before she too left, assuring him that he could call if Tony needed anything.

"I don't remember," Tony said when they were alone, his hazy green eyes fixing on Jethro's face. "I don't remember any of it."

"Any of what?" Jethro asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed and rubbing his thumb over his partners knuckles.

"Any of what the doctor said!" Tony replied. "I don't remember having brain surgery. I don't remember having brain surgery before. I don't remember having an aneurism! I don't remember anything!"

"It'll come back," Jethro assured him. "Just relax. You just woke up, your brain needs to heal."

Tony sighed, and Jethro could tell that he was upset. Wanting to make his partner feel better, he reached out to pull him into a hug, letting his lips brush against Tony's, but just as the soft flesh made contact, Tony jerked backwards and stared him like he was crazy.

"What are you doing, Gibbs?" The younger man demanded, catching Jethro off guard. "You can't kiss me!"

When Tony said he didn't remember having the aneurism, it hadn't occurred to him that Tony didn't remember their renewed relationship. His heart sank as the realization hit him. They hadn't gotten back together until after Tony had been diagnosed by Dr. Baylor.

"Jeese, we're not at home," Tony said, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "We might sleep with each other occasionally, but we're in public!"

"When did you become such a prude?" Jethro asked, trying to keep the mood light despite his anxiety.

"What if I want to catch the eye of that cute doctor?" Tony asked. "He won't like me if he thinks we're together."

"We are together," Jethro said, unable to pretend that they weren't.

"No we're not," Tony shook his head, but stopped with a grimace. "We broke up."

"We got back together," Jethro corrected him. "Right after you were diagnosed with the aneurism. I'm sure it'll come back to you."

Tony just stared at him, clearly confused.

* * *

**A/N: **I really am evil aren't I? The memory loss will be explored more in the next chapter, but don't worry, it's not going to interfere with their relationship any (after all, Tony's been pining over Gibbs for years, right? He can't be too upset to find out they are together). Tony really couldn't have come out of the surgery completely unscathed...

I hope you enjoyed this, and please review! I love getting reviews and I certainly update faster when there are people asking me too!

As always, let me know your thoughts!


	20. Chapter 20: Discharge

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS.

**A/N: **I'd like to take just a moment to thank everybody who reviewed! I appreciate each and every review I get, and while I haven't been able to respond to reviews individually lately, they still make my day.

**Chapter Twenty**

**Discharge**

If Jethro was worried about Tony's memory right after he woke up, it was nothing compared to the days that followed it. Sometimes he'd be completely fine- he remembered everything up until they'd wheeled him into the operating room and knocked him out, but at other times his memory was so whacked out that he wouldn't remember who Gibbs or Abby were. It frustrating him that he could do nothing at all to help his partner, and Dr. Parker couldn't tell them if the memory lapses were permanent, insisting that only time could tell.

"You're angry," Tony sighed five days after the surgery, as they sat together in his hospital room.

"I'm not angry," Jethro shook his head from the chair beside the bed.

"You can't lie to me," Tony refused the answer.

"I'm not lying. I'm not angry," Jethro assured him.

"You're acting like I don't know who you are," Tony smiled at him.

It sent a pang through Jethro's heart. Tony never remembered the memory lapses, and he found it too painful to mention them to the younger man. What would Tony think if he knew? Jethro didn't need to tell him about it to know that the information would not help him heal. No, the information would not help at all.

"What's wrong?" Tony prodded, reaching for his hand, and Jethro accepted it without hesitation.

"Nothing. I just want to get out of here," Jethro shrugged, rubbing Tony's knuckle with the pad of his thumb.

"You don't have to stay," Tony said. "You can go back to D.C. I'll be okay."

"I'm not leaving you," Jethro refused, and his tone left no room for argument.

"I don't know why they're keeping me in here anyway," Tony sighed. "The last scans they did were clean, and I feel okay. My head hurts a little bit, but not enough to keep me in this place."

"They want to make sure there are no surprises. D.C. is a long way from here. You won't be able to come back if something happens," Jethro responded, and he had to remind himself that it was half true as his gut painfully reminded him exactly why Tony wasn't being discharged just yet.

"I just want to go home now," Tony moaned, dropping his head back against his pillow.

"You're not getting out of that bed until the doctor says so," Abby's voice carried across the room from the door.

Jethro turned to see her breeze towards the bed, her large black bag slung over her shoulder, and her platform boots clomping on the linoleum floor. She was typical Abby, and it was a comfort to see her after the long morning they'd had.

"What if I have to pee?" Tony asked her with a cheeky grin and she sat down on the end of the bed and flung her purse onto a chair beneath the television on the far wall.

"You know what I mean," Abby laughed. "I'm so glad that you're in such a good mood!"

"Good mood?" Tony asked. "Why wouldn't I be in a good mood? I'm no longer dying, and eventually I'll be getting out of this place. Things are good."

Jethro caught Abby's eye, glaring at her, and warning her not to say anything about the last time she was in. When she left the previous evening it had not been in good spirits. The memory lapse had come on so suddenly that they had had no chance to alter their conversation, and a Tony who thought it was 2004 wasn't very accepting of the idea that Abby was pregnant with his child. He had promised he would talk to Tony about the problem- he would have to eventually after all- but he hadn't been able to.

"I just know how you feel about hospitals," Abby covered easily with a smile.

"Even the hospital can't dampen my spirits right now," Tony grinned at her.

NCIS

While a happy Tony certainly didn't dampen Jethro's spirits, he certainly wasn't in a good mood himself. He'd left his partner in Abby's company so he could take a coffee break, and while Tony had insisted they hurry back, Jethro didn't rush. It wasn't that he didn't want to spend time with Tony, but his nerves were shot. These memory lapses were not a piece of cake to handle, and while things were good right then, he was anxious about the next one.

As far as after surgery consequences, they'd gotten off easy. During the surgery, Jethro had gone over and over the list of potential repercussions. Loss of memory was there, along with paralysis, blindness, speech impairment, loss of feeling, long term brain damage, tremors, coma, and the list had gone on and on. While the memory lapses were frustrating, he'd shown no other problems, and they were very, very lucky for that.

Dr. Parker had no treatment for the memory lapses. They had done scans and tests and said something about swelling and damage in the memory center of his brain, but they offered no fix. Dr. Parker said they would keep him in the hospital for a few more days to see if anything improved, but they did nothing for him but shove pain killers down his throat and check the sutures in head. They weren't getting any worse, but they certainly wasn't getting any better either.

The memory lapses were sporadic at best. There were no telling signs before one occurred, and there was no telling how long it would last for, or how long they would go between. They came on suddenly, lasted for any amount of time, and left everybody in the room reeling.

"Mr. Gibbs," the ward nurse greeted when Jethro returned to Tony's floor on his way back to his partners side. "How's the coffee this morning?"

"Terrible, but I think it's growing on me," Jethro responded.

"Luckily you won't have to drink it for too much longer. You must be happy to be getting out of here in the morning." She was smiling widely at him, but her words confused and startled him. Morning? Tony wasn't ready to leave in the morning! They hadn't fixed him yet!

"He's not scheduled to leave yet," Jethro shook his head.

The nurse furrowed her brows at him. "Dr. Parker's okayed Tony's discharge for morning. Didn't he talk to you about it?"

"No," Jethro shook his head. "There must be some kind of mistake. Tony's not ready to go home yet. His brains all messed up."

Jethro didn't wait for the nurse to say anything before he hurried on his way down the hall to Tony's room, where Abby was sitting at the end of his bed talking with the enthusiastic man. She turned to look at him with apprehensive eyes when he entered, but Tony lit up even more at his presence.

"You just missed the doctor, Jethro," the younger man told him. "They're cutting me loose! We can get out of here tomorrow morning."

Under any other circumstances, Jethro would have been ecstatic to take his partner home. Tony hated hospitals, and the aneurism was gone, and they were looking forward moving on from this whole debacle, but what about the memory lapses? Were they just going to pretend that it wasn't a problem? Was Jethro supposed to spend the rest of his life wondering if Tony was going to remember who he was when they woke up in the morning?

"What…what about follow up care?" Jethro tried to look calm and collected, but his voice shook.

"He's been talking with Dr. Baylor in D.C., and he's going to take over," Tony answered, his brightness dimming as he realized that Jethro wasn't excited. "What's wrong? This is a good thing!"

"I know," Jethro tried to assure him, lowering himself into the chair beside his bed.

Suddenly, Tony cheered up again. "It's going to be fine, Jethro. I'm going to be fine. You don't need to worry. Dr. Baylor is a good doctor, and he'll take good care of me when we get home. You don't have to worry."

"I'm not worried," Jethro shook his head.

"Not worried about what?" Tony asked.

Furrowing his brow, Jethro said, "I'm not worried about you going home."

"Why would you be?" Tony waved a hand in the air. "I've been in here forever. I'm ready to blow this joint. My lungs are feeling just fine."

Jethro sighed as he realized his partner was having another memory lapse. At least he wasn't demanding to know why he was in the hospital.

"That's why I'm not worried," Jethro forced a grin. "You're healthy as a horse, Tony."

NCIS

If Jethro had ever been so angry in his life, he couldn't recall the time. He'd found Dr. Parker in the hallway on the way back from fetching another coffee and demanded to know why the man was letting Tony out of the hospital when the memory lapses had not cleared up. He didn't believe the doctor when he said there was nothing he could do to fix the problem. There had to be something! How was Tony supposed to live a normal life when he kept lapsing back to sporadic moments in time?

Dr. Parker had refused to keep him in the hospital, and had left Jethro fuming. They were going to discharge Tony in the morning and there was nothing he could do to prevent that. Their only option was to talk to Dr. Baylor about finding a fix for the memory lapses and hope the man cared more than Dr. Parker did.

* * *

**A/N: **Let me know what you think! I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	21. Chapter 21: Dr Baylor

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS. Not even a small, inconsequential part.

**A/N: **Thank you to everybody who reviewed the last chapter! I really loved hearing your thoughts. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Chapter Twenty One**

**Dr. Baylor**

"You missed the exit," Tony pointed out as they drove down the highway through the pouring rain, which seemed to match Jethro's mood.

"No, I didn't," Jethro shook his head.

"Yes you did. To get to my apartment we take the exit onto Jefferson," Tony pointed behind them, confused.

"You don't live on Jefferson," Jethro told him.

"Yes I do," Tony insisted.

Of course he lived off of Jefferson. He'd lived off of Jefferson since he'd moved to D.C. from Baltimore years ago. He had a one bedroom apartment in a brick building and his neighbor had the most annoying little Chihuahua that liked to bark all night.

"Your apartment is on Poplar," Jethro replied.

"No, it isn't," Tony corrected him.

"Yes, it is," Jethro snapped, and Tony cringed.

Jethro had not been in the best of moods since they'd gotten off the plane at Dulles. Tony hadn't said anything about his foul attitude until they got in the car- one Tony hadn't realized was his partners, though Jethro insisted it was. His mood had continued to deteriorate as they drove away from the airport and Tony tried to figure out exactly what was bothering him.

In all honesty, Tony was freaking out inside. He wasn't sure exactly why they'd been at the airport in the first place, or where they were coming from. He'd almost told Jethro this, but decided to keep his mouth shut instead. His partner was not in a good mood, and he didn't need to tell him something that was going to upset him further.

"You just passed the exit for Poplar," Tony sighed after another few minutes, deciding to indulge in his partners delusion.

"We're not going to your apartment," Jethro said.

"You could have just said that before," Tony pointed out, resting his head against the back of the seat and folding his hands in his lap.

Jethro simply shook his head, readjusted his grip on the steering wheel, and fixed his eyes on the pavement in front of them. Whatever was eating at him, it was definitely not good.

"Perhaps we should pick up some dinner before we get back to your place," Tony suggested, though he really wasn't feeling very hungry.

"We had dinner before we got on the plane," Jethro refused.

"Oh, right," Tony nodded, though he didn't remember that happening.

It suddenly occurred to him that he could very well be the reason for his partners bad mood. After all, he was not usually so curt with him.

"Have I done something to offend you?" He wondered nervously, hoping it wasn't so.

They hadn't been together for too long. What if Jethro was going to break up with him? He'd moved to D.C. to pursue a relationship with him, and he wasn't sure what exactly he'd do if they broke up. He couldn't keep working with him, that was for sure…and his heart would probably break into a thousand pieces.

"I'm not upset with you," Jethro sighed. "You haven't done anything wrong. I'm just tired from the flight."

"Okay," Tony said, but he wasn't entirely convinced.

"Really, Tony. You haven't done anything," Jethro assured him.

The rest of the trip passed in silence. When they pulled into the driveway of Jethro's house, Tony squinted his eyes at the car parked in the space where his partner usually parked his truck. It was a nice car and definitely not one that Jethro would ever drive.

"Whose car is that?" Tony asked as he pushed open the passenger door and forced himself out of the leather bucket seat.

"Yours," Jethro replied from where he was pulling their bags from the trunk.

"That's not my car," Tony objected.

He really wouldn't have minded if it was his- it was a very nice car- but he drove a black corvette, and the vintage mustang in the driveway was certainly not a black corvette.

"Yes, it is," Jethro told him.

Something was not right with this picture. They were coming back from a trip he didn't remember taking, in a car he didn't recall his partner owning, to a house he'd visited only a handful of times instead of his apartment- which he was positive was off of Jefferson and NOT on Poplar.

"You coming?" Jethro called from the porch when Tony hadn't moved from the driveway.

Did he have a choice? Without answering, he hurried up the walk and followed his partner into the house. It was familiar, but he really hadn't spent enough time there to notice if anything was off about it. As Jethro took the bags upstairs, insisting he didn't need help when Tony offered, he walked through the downstairs. It seemed just the same as every other time he'd been there- simple.

A set of pictures on the mantel caught his attention, and he walked over to check them out. A picture of an older man sat to the side in an ornate wooden frame that Tony assumed Jethro had made. The subject of the photo was unfamiliar to him, but the pair of people in the middle picture he easily identified as he and Jethro. He had no memory of when this picture had been taken, or who had taken it, but they were sitting together on the couch in that very living room with goofy smiles plastered on their faces. It unsettled him that he couldn't remember it being taken. The last photo- one of a woman and a young child- was completely foreign to him, and he backed away from the mantel. His head was starting to ache from trying to remember who these people were. Was he supposed to know the strangers? Surely, Jethro would have told him about people he was close enough with to have photo's on his mantel of.

"You okay?" The man in question caught his attention as he descended the stairs, his boots making more noise than necessary on the wooden boards.

"Yeah," Tony lied with a fake smile.

Jethro was kissing him before he even realized he'd crossed the room to him, and Tony sank into it willingly. Jethro was a good kisser, and the touch made him feel immensely better. His partners lips drove all of the bad thoughts away until nothing mattered but the continued touching of their mouths and tongues and hands.

He was slightly confused when Jethro pulled away and leaned his forehead against his own. While he loved kissing his partner, something wasn't right…when had they gotten back to Jethro's house? The last thing he remembered, they were on the plane home. He sighed as he realized what must have happened.

"I had a memory lapse, didn't I?" Tony asked with a sigh.

"Yes," Jethro murmured in response. "You're okay though. I got you home in one piece."

"Was I much trouble?" He wondered, feeling guilty for putting his partner through the hassle of it.

"No. You kept telling me that you lived off of Jefferson and wouldn't believe me when I said you didn't, but you were a good boy," Jethro reassured him.

Tony had not taken kindly to the news that he was lapsing back to different points in time. When Jethro had told him, he thought it was a joke, but the look in his partners eyes had told him there was nothing funny about it. It had been easy to not realize he was missing chunks of time when he was in the hospital, forbidden from doing anything but watching television- which really hadn't been so bad until he'd gotten bored of it. There wasn't much to remember in the hospital, but being out in reality, it was very disconcerting to not know how you'd gotten somewhere.

"I don't like this," Tony muttered.

"I know. You have an appointment with Dr. Baylor in a few days. He's going to figure out how to fix it," Jethro replied.

Tony really hoped that the doctor could.

NCIS

One part of Tony enjoyed the fact that Jethro had taken the time off work to stay with him. He enjoyed the company of his partner immensely, and he knew that no matter how bad the memory lapses were, Jethro would never let anything happen to him. The other part of him hated the fact that Jethro had taken the time off work to stay with him. Not only was he going to have to explain their relationship to the people they worked with- because, honestly, he couldn't see any way that they could get around that- but his partner was constantly on top of him, and not in the good way.

He wasn't allowed to leave the house alone, and leaving included only short trips that Tony found to be very unsatisfying. Walks around the neighborhood and zipping in and out of the grocery store didn't give Tony enough time out of the house to feel like he'd actually been out of the house! He understood why he was on such a short leash, and he couldn't say he didn't need it, but he certainly didn't like it. He wasn't used to being sequestered to such a small area of space for so long.

It felt like the three days between their homecoming and his appointment with Dr. Baylor had taken a lifetime to pass. Not even Abby's ever-increasing optimism could make him feel better, and the incessant calls from McGee, Ziva, and Ducky were frustrating him. Didn't they understand that he didn't want to talk?

The memory lapses disconcerted him more than anything else. One minute he'd be in the bedroom putting on his shirt, or in the kitchen making a sandwich, or in the bathroom taking a shower, and the next thing he knew he was somewhere else. Once he'd come to standing in his boxers in the middle of the front yard with Jethro urging him to come back inside while one of the neighbors peered at them from behind the hedge in her yard, clearly thinking he'd lost his mind. At least he had Jethro around to catch him. He knew he could be overbearing and annoying at times, but Jethro never let him do anything stupid.

By the time the appointment with Dr. Baylor was upon them, Tony was begging to go. Whatever Dr. Parker had screwed up in his brain needed to be fixed before he went crazy.

NCIS

Sitting in the waiting room waiting to be called for Tony's appointment was like torture. He had promised his partner that the doctor could fix him, but could he really? Jethro was a realistic person, not an optimist, and while he'd done everything he could to reassure Tony that the problem could be taken care of, he was having a terrible time convincing himself of that. He didn't even want to think about what life would be like if the damage was permanent. He knew that he'd stick by Tony's side through it, but taking care of him wasn't going to be easy.

"Anthony DiNozzo?" A young woman opened a door near the receptionists desk and smiled when they stood up.

Jethro thanked heaven that Tony was not having a memory lapse. Getting him to do anything during an episode was nearly impossible. Sometimes he was so confused about where he was and what was going on that he'd have a complete melt down and he'd only calm down when his memory returned. Luckily, Tony was having a good day, and he followed after the woman with a bounce in his step.

Upon arriving in the exam room after a check of his vitals, they didn't have to wait long for Dr. Baylor. Tony greeted the man enthusiastically before introducing him, and Jethro shook the doctor's hand without pause.

"How're you feeling?" Dr. Baylor asked, sitting down in the swiveling chair in front of the computer.

"Good. The heads a little sore, but I'm good otherwise," Tony replied with a grin.

"That's good to hear. I got the medical records Dr. Parker sent from New York. The scans look good, and the surgery was successful," Dr. Baylor said as he reviewed some notes the young woman who had roomed them left on the computer screen.

"Uh huh," Tony bobbed his head, already knowing this information. "I'm feeling good."

"So what seems to bring you in?" The doctor wondered, swiveling around to face them, and a burst of anger threatened to overwhelm Jethro.

"Dr. Parker didn't mention the memory lapses?" Jethro demanded.

Furrowing his brow in confusion, Dr. Baylor spun around to look at the computer screen again. He was silent for a few moments before he addressed them.

"There's nothing about any memory affects in what he sent us. He pointed out that there was minor post-surgery side effects but concluded that treatment was not important," Dr. Baylor replied. "Is there more to it?"

"More to it?" Jethro wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the question, and Tony set a hand on his arm in an attempt to calm him down.

"I've been having some memory lapses," Tony explained to the doctor. "Dr. Parker said it had something to do with swelling in my brain. He wouldn't treat them."

Dr. Baylor didn't look very happy to hear that news.

"He wouldn't treat them?" The doctor demanded.

"He said they would either clear up on their own or they wouldn't," Jethro told him when Tony looked his way for help. "There was nothing he could do."

"How bad are they?" Dr. Baylor asked, and again Tony looked to Jethro for the answer.

"They are definitely having an impact on the way he leads his life. We never know when he'll have one, how long it will last, or how bad he'll react to it. Since we got home three days ago, he's had six," Jethro said.

"Six?" Tony questioned, and he flicked at his fingers for a moment before saying, "when was the sixth? I only remember five."

"I didn't tell you about the one in the basement," Jethro shrugged. "It wasn't a bad one. I didn't want to upset you."

The glare Tony sent his way told him that they would be talking about his lack of communication later, and he turned back to the doctor to continue with their appointment.

"Dr. Parker should have looked into this, or at least documented it in the paperwork he sent over," Dr. Baylor shook his head, clearly very annoyed.

"Is there anything we can do to fix the problem?" Tony asked, an edge of hope in his voice that he couldn't mask."

"We can certainly look into it," the doctor assured him. "This was just irresponsible medicine. I'm going to set you up for another MRI, and we'll go from there.

* * *

**A/N: **So, there's hope! Dr. Baylor's on the case!

Let me know what you think!


	22. Chapter 22: A New Beginning

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS

**A/N: **I know I've been MIA for awhile, but hopefully this chapter makes up for it! It's shorter than the last few, but it's also not quite so sad...Keep in mind, I'm not a doctor, and I took creative liberties with the medical information contained in this chapter.

**Chapter Twenty Two**

**A New Beginning**

"What's the deal?" Tony asked three days later, sitting in a conference room at Dr. Baylor's Medical Clinic.

He'd been poked, prodded and scanned over the last few days, and he was anxious as he sat beside Jethro at the round, wooden table waiting for the results. The memory lapses had not gotten any better, and he was sick and tired of having to deal with them. Jethro really couldn't keep an eye on him for the rest of his life. This problem wasn't fair to either of them.

Dr. Baylor sat across from them with a folder open in front of him. His face showed nothing that Tony could read, and it made him all the more anxious. Was this good news? Was it bad? Was he going to be stuck with the memory lapses for the rest of his life? The thought of it scared him even more than the thought of dying had.

"You can recover from this," Dr. Baylor said right off, and Tony felt relief spread through his tense limbs. "When Dr. Parker performed the surgery, it was complicated by the aneurism rupturing. This caused swelling in the memory center of your brain, which is damaging the nerves."

"What can fix it?" Jethro asked, squeezing Tony's hand beneath the table.

"If we alleviate that pressure on the nerves, the memory lapses should stop," Dr. Baylor answered.

"How would that work? Do I have to have surgery again?" Tony asked, fear stirring in the pit of his stomach. He really didn't want to go through a third surgery on his brain.

"Not yet. The risks that come with surgery are high, and I think we can treat it without having to go that route. There are medications I'd like to try first. We'll hook you up to an IV, administer the anti-inflammatory drugs, and hopefully that will take care of the problem," Dr. Baylor said.

"It's as simple as that?" It seemed strange to Tony that all that was needed was a dose of anti-inflammatory medication. Could such a big problem be solved with such a simple treatment?

"I believe that it is," Dr. Baylor confirmed.

"What if it doesn't work?" Jethro interceded.

"If it doesn't work, then we go with surgery," Dr. Baylor told them.

Tony's heart sank. He wasn't sure he could go through another surgery.

"We will try the anti-inflammatory drugs first, before we even talk about surgery," Dr. Baylor said before Tony could open his mouth to protest the possibility.

"When?" Tony swallowed the lump in his throat, biting the inside of his lip.

"We can do it now," Dr. Baylor replied.

NCIS

Two days later and Tony was elated. Since spending half his day at Dr. Baylor's office with a needle stuck in his arm and drugs seeping into his blood stream, he'd been free of the memory lapses. It was like an instant cure. As soon as the drugs had reduced the swelling in his brain, his headache had dissipated and some of the constant fatigue had eased. While there were more appointments for scans, blood work and exams, Tony was feeling pretty good.

It was pretty clear that Jethro was feeling better about things after the anti-inflammatory drugs had started working, as well. His foul mood seemed to lift, and Tony was happy that he wasn't being treated like a chore anymore. He knew his partner loved him and would take care of him under any circumstances, but Jethro had never been known for his patience and it was clear that his nerves had been wearing thin having to deal with the memory lapses and a disgruntled Tony. Jethro's better mood made him feel all the better.

"I can go back to my apartment now," Tony announced while they sat on the couch eating pizza from a box on the coffee table. "I'm feeling better."

When Jethro choked on the pizza and leaned forward to drop the half eaten slice into the box, Tony knew he'd shocked his partner. Really, though, what had Jethro been expecting? That he'd need a babysitter for the rest of his life? The rest of his long, unhindered life?

"You okay?" Tony wondered, shoving a glass of water into Jethro's hand and rubbing his back.

"Fine," Jethro gasped, downing half the glass and shoving it back into Tony's hand.

There was silence between them as Jethro regained his bearings and Tony tried to come up with something to say that wouldn't upset his partner further.

"You're not going anywhere," Jethro shook his head before Tony could think of something.

"I have to go home at some point," Tony informed him. "I can't live out of a suitcase forever. I'm feeling better now, so it's time I head home. I'll be going back to work soon too."

"You're not going back to work until Dr. Baylor gives you a clean bill of health," Jethro corrected him and Tony sighed. "And you're not leaving until then either."

Honestly, Tony decided, he wasn't all that disappointed with the arrangement. While he'd like to get back to work as soon as possible- as sitting around the house all day was exceedingly boring- he didn't mind staying with Jethro. He loved the man, moodiness and all.

They didn't say much as they finished their pizza and the movie playing on the small screen across from them. Tony, who was tired of watching movies- a fete he'd never thought possible- let his mind wander, creating an agenda for the next day. He needed to pick up some things from his apartment if Jethro was so adamant about him staying- more clothes and a few more movies and things. Perhaps he could convinced his partner to actually let him shop at the grocery store, instead of rushing him through the isles for set items on their list- one of his favorites things to shopping was impulse buys, after all. He wasn't supposed to exercise, as he was still healing from the surgery, but he'd like to do something other than sit on his butt all day.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice when the movie ended. The credits had been rolling for a while when Jethro's collecting of the pizza box caught his attention. He stretched out his long limbs, which had never felt so tense before the surgery, before standing up.

"Go up to bed while I toss this," Jethro suggested, already heading into the kitchen.

Tony turned off the TV and DVD player before doing as Jethro suggested. The pain medication he'd taken earlier was making him groggy, and he dragged his feet all the way upstairs and into the bedroom. He didn't bother with pajamas, instead stripping down to his boxers and sliding beneath the sheets. He was about to drop off into the oblivion when Jethro slipped into bed beside him.

"G'night," Tony murmured.

"Night," was the soft reply.

It was silent in the bedroom, both men settling in to sleep and adjusting their positions on the bed to get comfortable. Tony was just about asleep again, with Jethro's arm draped across his waist, when his partner broke the silence with a statement that made sleep just about impossible.

"You should move in here, with me," Jethro whispered.

"What?" Tony asked, unsure if he'd heard his partner right, or had imagined the request.

"You should move in with me," Jethro repeated himself, and Tony turned, dislodging the arm around his waist, to look into the vivid blue eyes of his partner.

Tony took a deep breath before saying, "you know you don't need to babysit me, right? I'm alright."

"If I wanted to keep an eye on you, I wouldn't ask you to move in," Jethro assured him, reaching out to run a callused hand down Tony's cheek.

Tony couldn't help but cock an eyebrow at his partner, though the move went unseen due to the darkness of the bedroom.

"Do you not want to live with me?" Jethro wondered, his voice quiet.

"I wouldn't mind living with you," Tony shrugged.

"Is that the same thing as saying yes?" Jethro asked.

"Yes," Tony nodded in the affirmative.

Their lips met in a sweet kiss, but it lasted only a few moments before they settled back into their previous comfortable positions and closed their eyes. Tony found his mind racing, wondering what it was going to be like to live with Jethro, but not enough to keep him from slipping off into the dark oblivion that was sleep.

* * *

**A/N: **So, what do you think of this chapter? Let me know! It won't take so long before I post the next one. Promise!


	23. Chapter 23: Accepting Change

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS

**A/N: **First, thank you all so much for your reviews! Each and every one of them made me so happy! I replied to a good deal, but if I didn't reply to yours, I'm sorry and I really appreciate that you took the time to review my story :-) (On that note, am I the only one who hates this new way of responding to reviews? It was so much easier the old way!).

Second, I apologize for the lengthy amount of time you had to wait for this chapter. I've just been so busy with work and some family issues and so many side projects that my head is spinning from everything. With that said, I apologize if this isn't my best work. I was eager to get it up and with a mind that has to be constantly focused on several things at once, this may not flow as well as I'd have liked it to. I won't, I can say with certainty, be able to get the next chapter up until July.

**Chapter Twenty Three**

**Accepting Change**

Packing up his apartment took longer than Tony expected that it would, and many, many, many more boxes. He was sure that if Jethro hadn't been helping him, he never would have been able to do the job himself- he would have gotten distracted the moment he sat down in front of the giant bookcase holding all of his movies, and Jethro would have called him in the evening to check on his progress only to learn that he'd been watching television all day.

It had taken him a few weeks to make his way to the apartment to start packing. He'd been dragging his feet, and it was only when Jethro commented on his lack of enthusiasm for moving in that he'd proposed going the next morning to begin the job. He'd run out of things to be busy doing anyhow.

He didn't drag his feet because he didn't want to move in with Jethro. He really did. He loved his partner, and he knew that he would be happy living with him instead of miles away, there was just a small part of him that had doubts. It was like a tiny voice whispering in his head that this wasn't as good of an idea as Jethro thought it was going to be.

How much more drama could his partner possibly take from him? Jethro had been strong all through everything. He'd been by his side through several very risky brain surgeries. He'd been Tony's rock. He couldn't help but fear what would happen when he moved in with him. Now that he wasn't dying, now that he was going to live to be of ripe old age, what if Jethro realized that he didn't actually want to be with him?

Tony couldn't help but worry that now that he was no longer dying, and Jethro would be stuck with him for the rest of his life (which, barring some unforeseen accident, would last for many, many, many more years than the doctors had originally thought upon his diagnosis), his partner wouldn't want him anymore.

His diagnosis had been like a safety net, but now that safety net was gone, and as terrible as it sounded, Tony wanted it back. He didn't want to be afraid that Jethro would decide that being with him _forever_ wasn't worth it. He didn't want to have to deal with it when Jethro decided that their relationship wouldn't work, just as he had done before, so many years ago. While the idea of living with the older man sent tingles down his spine from happiness, there was a weight of dread pressing down on his shoulders, and he couldn't keep the unpleasant scenarios from playing through his mind.

What if down the road they broke up and Tony had nowhere to go? He had to actually worry about what the future might bring for him. Before all of his thoughts revolved around when he would die, where he would be, and what everybody else would do when that time came. Now, he had to actually make plans for what he was going to do with the rest of his life. He had to think about his career, and he had to think about where his relationship with Jethro was going to go, and he had to think about the baby currently housed in Abby's uterus.

He'd gotten the surgery so that he could have a future, so that he could be a partner and a father and a friend, but now that he actually had the future he had so desperately wanted, it was starting to overwhelm him. The responsibilities of living were a lot harder than the responsibilities of dying…

"You done with those movies yet?" Jethro asked as he walked into the living room with a large box in his arms.

Looking around him, Tony cringed as he realized he'd been too busy lost in his thoughts to actually put more than three movies into one of the large boxes allocated for them.

"Working on it," Tony told him sheepishly, grabbed five cases and tossing them into the box.

"You've been reading the backs again haven't you?" Jethro sighed setting the box in a growing pile beside the door and moving through the maze of empty boxes to sit on the couch not far from where Tony sat on the floor.

"Guilty as charged," Tony responded with a cheeky grin, and Jethro scowled at him.

Tony couldn't tell him what was going through his head. How would his partner take finding out that he was afraid to live? That was not a can of worms that Tony wanted to open.

"Why don't you go pack up the bathroom?" Jethro finally suggested, picking up a movie case from the coffee table. "I'll pack up the living room."

**NCIS**

"You have too many suits," Abby said the next evening as she stood in the bedroom, in front of the closet, chewing on her lip as she tried to figure out how she was going to get all of Tony's clothes into the half of the closet that Jethro had delegated as his.

"I was thinking that I don't have enough," Tony disagreed with her, grabbing a garment bag and tugging the zipper down to reveal expensive fabric before tossing it back into the pile.

"They're not all going to fit in here," Abby objected.

"I'm sure we can squeeze them all in," Tony assured her, grabbing her shoulders and moving her away from the closet so he could stand where she was.

He pushed at Jethro's clothes, attempting to move them further to the right side of the closet, but had no luck. He had spent that morning going through Jethro's clothes, folding things that could go in the dresser, and pushing everything else to one side so that he would have more room on his side. Jethro had laughed at him then, and Abby laughed at him now.

"They can't go any further," Abby said. "You're going to have to make some sacrifices."

"No," Tony shook his head. "They'll fit. I'll make them fit."

"Unless Narnia shows up in the back of this closet, there isn't going to be enough room," Abby patted his shoulder. "You don't need this many anyway. I'm sure that 7 will suffice."

"7!" He exclaimed. "Absolutely not! I need more than 7 suits!"

"What are you going to do with them all?" Abby wondered, her hands on her hips and her lips puckered to one side, daring him to come up with a reason why he would need more.

"One is for funerals, one is for weddings, one is for special occasions that aren't weddings or funerals, at least eight for work, one-" Abby punched him in the arm and he yelped.

"You can keep seven," she told him. "The rest you can donate."

"Donate my suits? You have got to be kidding! Do you know how expensive these were?" She was not going to talk him into it.

"Think about all the people in the world who could use a nice suit but can't afford one," Abby implored of him, reaching for a garment bag.

"Those people don't need to be walking around in Aramni and Gucci," Tony protested.

"And once this baby comes along, you won't either," Abby admonished him with a glare.

The baby. This was the first time anybody had mentioned the baby since he'd come home from the hospital, and knots began to tie themselves in his stomach. Just the merest mention of this baby was enough to make him sweat. Really, how was _he_ supposed to be a father? He didn't even know how to hold a baby!

"I'm not donating my suits," Tony shook his head, the tone in his voice changing so drastically that Abby quirked an eyebrow at him in concern.

"What's got you down, Tony?" She wondered, pulling him backwards to drop onto the bed.

"It's not important," he tried to weasel his way around the subject, but he knew it wasn't going to work on Abby.

"Come on," she chided him.

He was thankful that Jethro wasn't home- he'd gone out to pick up dinner just before they'd come upstairs to hang up his clothes and wasn't due back for at least another twenty minutes. He wasn't ready to talk to Jethro about his concerns, but Abby was his best friend, and he couldn't keep it from her, even if he was afraid she wouldn't like what he said.

"I'm worried," he admitted, not letting himself use the word terrified, even though it described how he was feeling so much better.

"About what?" Abby rubbed one of her slender hands across his shoulders.

"Everything," he sighed.

There wasn't just one thing that was freaking him out. It was everything.

"Why is it worrying you?" She pressed.

"Two weeks ago I knew I didn't have very much time left, but now…now I have this entire future ahead of me and all of these things going on…and…and…" he couldn't say anything more against the lump that had formed in his throat.

Abby set her chin against his shoulder and pulled him into a hug, but didn't say anything. Tony managed to calm himself down a little and continue the conversation.

"Nothing mattered before because I knew I wasn't going to be around long enough for it too matter, but now I have to deal with it. I have to think about responsibility and consequences. It's not…easy anymore," he explained, tapping his long fingers against his knee. "There's Jethro, and you, and this baby. You all want things from me. I have to actually care that these things are happening. They're not just fun anymore. They're serious things that I have to deal with for the rest of my life."

"Do you not want these things anymore?" Abby questioned, and he could tell that she was fighting to hold back her tears.

"Of course I want them," Tony assured her. "I love Jethro with everything I have, and I love you, and I'm going to do everything I can to be a good father…it's just hard adjusting to everything."

There was silence for a little while, but finally, Abby said, "it's all going to work out. This baby won't be here for a while, so you have plenty of time to get used to the idea of actually raising a child and not just creating it, and your man loves you just as much as you love him. Everything is going to be just fine."

Tony didn't feel so fine, but he nodded, accepting what she said, and she patted his shoulder with a smile before jumping up and heading over to the pile of suits they had abandoned.

"Now, which ones do you want to keep, and which ones do you want to donate?"

* * *

**A/N: **So what do you guys think? Love it? Hate it? Let me know in a review :-)


	24. Chapter 24: You're Not Alone

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS

**A/N: **I apologize for how long it's taken me to post this latest chapter. I've been so busy with life- and stupid people- lately that I haven't had time to write...and I haven't really felt like writing this story in the little bit of downtime that I have had. With school starting in just a couple of weeks, things are going to get even crazier too, so I finished writing out the last few chapters of this story, and I'll update them when I get the time to. Forgive me for the shortness of this chapter (and if there are any errors, as I was editing in a rush). I wanted to wrap up this story line and move onto the next as the end is approaching.

**Chapter Twenty Four**

**You're Not Alone**

Tony had never been so happy to see the ugly orange walls of the bullpen as he was that morning. They were so inviting and comforting and they called out to him in a silent, "welcome home." Everybody who saw him on his way up clapped him on the shoulder and welcomed him back to the office. He thanked them, and ignored the questions they asked about where he'd been. They didn't need to know, and he wasn't going to admit it. It was irrelevant now.

He could see from the elevator that something was going on in the bullpen. The team was gathered in a cluster in the middle, as were Abby, Ducky and Palmer. For a bit he thought they were working on a case, but when he turned the corner into their working space, they all called surprise and directed him to look at his desk.

There were balloons and streamers adorning every bit of everything, and a solitary cupcake that said 'welcome back.' It was very clearly Abby's doing, if the black roses were any indication. He grinned and hugged her before settling in at his desk. Everything was alright, and he was elated. Of course, then the call came in and he was forced to sit at his desk and watch everybody head out to work a scene. That hadn't left him feeling very good, but at least he was a work and not sitting at home staring at a television screen.

His inbox was a little too frightening for him to think about, so he turned to his computer. What was Tony DiNozzo better at then goofing off? With no boss around, he'd be able to do anything without worrying about Jethro popping up behind him.

"Ahem," the voice spoke just above his left year, and he nearly jumped in surprise.

He'd forgotten about Vance, who could be just as sneaky as the silver haired fox that shared the bullpen.

"Director," Tony cried, clicking out of his game as quickly as he could as Vance rounded the desk to face him. "I was just…working on…increasing my reflexes. No better way to do that then play a tense match of Tetris."

"Right," Vance nodded, clearly not buying the excuse.

"What can I do for you?" Tony wondered when silence stretched between them for longer than Tony was comfortable with.

"I just wanted to welcome you back," Vance responded. "Make sure you're doing better after your recent health issues."

"I'm good," Tony hurried to say. "Very good. In fact, I've never felt better."

"I'm glad to hear it," Vance nodded. "You're an asset to this agency, and we're happy to have you back."

As Vance walked away, Tony stared at him. Had that really just happened, or was he hallucinating? That was probably one of the weirdest things that had EVER happened to him, and he'd been through his share of weird. Perhaps absence had made Vance's heart grow fonder of him. Maybe, but Tony didn't expect it to last.

**NCIS**

"Pizza or Chinese?" Jethro asked, holding up two take out menu's in the kitchen doorway for Tony to see from the living room couch.

After a moment of weighing his options, Tony said, "Chinese. You know what I like."

Even though he'd sat at his desk all week, he was exhausted. He'd forgotten just how exhausting it could be to actually work. He cursed his long medical leave that had forced him into falling out of groove with the long days and hard cases. Now he had to build himself back up again. He'd gone home early that afternoon, but he was still too tired to even think about moving.

"Ordered," Jethro announced not too long later, striding into the living room with his purposeful steps and dropping down on the couch right beside him.

Tony groaned. He was too tired tonight for what he knew Jethro had in mind.

"What's wrong?" Jethro asked quietly, sensing Tony's discomfort and sliding away to see on the other side of the couch.

"Nothing's wrong. I'm just tired," Tony tried to assure him.

"You're always tired," Jethro sighed.

"I have to get back into the swing of things," Tony shrugged. "I'm not used to doing anything more than sitting on my butt, I've got to get used to being productive."

"If this was just this last week, I'd agree with you, but you've been distant for a while now," Jethro pointed out. "I thought that once the memory lapses fixed themselves, things would go back to what they used to be, but it's been weeks, and you're only pulling farther away."

"I am not," Tony protested, really wishing they didn't have to do this tonight.

Jethro just stared at him, and Tony knew he couldn't pretend that he hadn't been doing exactly what Jethro accused him of doing.

"Okay, maybe I have been a bit distant," Tony caved.

"Are you having second thoughts? Do you want to end this?" Jethro asked, and the desperation for a negative response was clear in his voice.

"Of course not," Tony insisted. "I'm just…trying to figure things out right now. That's all."

Jethro waited for him to elaborate, and Tony sighed. He'd have much preferred to have this conversation after a night of uninterrupted sleep.

"I'm coming to terms with the fact that I actually have a life now. It's not easy," Tony explained. "There's so much to think about, and I have no plans. You asked me to move in here, and I did because I love you, but I don't know where to go from here. I want to be with you, God, I want to be with you so badly, but I'm thinking about the future, and the past, and I don't know how things are supposed to go."

"It's something you figure out as you go along," Jethro pointed out, relaxing a bit into the couch as he turned to face his partner. "There's no magic answer that's going to pop into your head."

"I wish there was," Tony muttered, rubbing at his forehead. "I've been living my life knowing exactly what was going to happen. I didn't know when, but I knew it was coming. Now, I don't know what's coming. I don't know what to plan for."

"You're overthinking it," Jethro said. "You're so busy trying to plan out the big picture, that you're not looking at what's right in front of you. You're not alone, Tony. We'll think about the future and make plans together. You don't have to figure every little detail out right now."

Tony sighed one last time before looking over at his partner, who was staring at him with those big blue eyes intently. Why did Jethro have to know everything? It made him feel like a fool sometimes. He nodded in acceptance, and then Jethro's arms were around him and they were melted together.

"I know it's hard, but you're not alone," Jethro whispered as he rubbed the back of Tony's head. "I've always got your six."

* * *

**A/N: **Let me know what you think about this chapter! I appreciate all feedback.


	25. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NCIS

**AN: **1) I apologize profusely for the long wait for this chapter. At the last minute, I decided that the original final installment of this story was not good enough, and posting it would ruin the story. I was such a wreck and it was really showing in my writing, so I was going to rewrite it, but as time went on, my life got even more hectic, and finishing this story got sent to the bottom of my 'to do' list. Now that life has finally settled down just a bit, and my frame of mind has significantly improved, I decided to knock this out before it got completely written off as a lost cause.

2) This is short, and I'm sorry for that. It's not some big, spectacular ending, but just a sweet way to wrap things up. I hope you like it. Let me know with a comment!

**Epilogue**

To say that Tony was nervous was an understatement of vast proportions. He hadn't been this anxious since…never. He'd never been so nervous in his life, not even when he'd been laying in the hospital about to have his head cut open. How this could be more nerve-wracking then that, he had no idea, but it certainly was.

"Relax," Jethro whispered in his ear, squeezing his hand tightly.

"I'm trying," Tony sighed, rubbing his sweaty palm against the fabric covering his thigh.

"You're going to be a great father," Jethro told him.

"Well, yeah," Tony brushed the sentiment away in typical Tony fashion. "I'm going to make a great father. This kid is lucky to have me."

Jethro simply chuckled as the door in front of them opened and a short, slim doctor with red hair beckoned them into the room. Tony grinned at her as Jethro pushed him inside with both hands on his shoulders, his brain refusing to send the command to walk to his legs. He felt like his knees had been replaced with jelly.

"Look, look, look!" Abby squealed before either of the men had had a chance to lay eyes on her.

She was lying on her back on an exam table, her swollen belly prominently standing out from her thin frame, while a blue paper blanket was draped across her lap. The young forensic scientist was waving her hand excitedly towards a monitor standing not far away from her, the black and white picture grainy and difficult to make out by the untrained eye.

"Isn't this so amazing?" She gushed as Tony was forced down into a chair right beside the exam table.

"It's pretty cool," Tony nodded, trying to keep his hands from shaking.

"Do you want to know the sex of the baby?" The doctor asked after she'd pointed out the baby's head and hands to see.

"No," Jethro answered.

"They want to be surprised," Abby giggled.

"Can't go wrong with this surprise," Jethro agreed.

The room fell into silence as they all stared at the grainy picture on the screen, their thoughts all centered around the baby that was already changing all of their lives. While Tony was in terror of his impending fatherhood, excitement was quickly blocking out the fear. This was his baby, and with Jethro at his side, he was going to make a good father. His partner wouldn't let him screw up the most important thing he'd ever do in his life.

"You guys are going to be the best parents," Abby broke the silence, turning to look at them with tears in her eyes. "This has got to be the luckiest baby in the world."

"You know we want you to be part of the baby's life," Tony told her, for what he felt like the millionth time. "You're mommy. All kids need a mom."

"I'm okay with just being the awesome surrogate," Abby shook her head.

When Abby had come to them weeks earlier and insisted that they take the baby as their own, Tony had not liked the idea. He'd thought long and hard about what life would be like after the baby arrived, but none of the scenarios he'd imagined had an absent Abby. He's always thought she'd be right there to play the role of mommy, but she'd been insistent that he and Jethro be the expected arrivals parents. No amount of protesting had been able to change her mind. It was for the best of the baby, she assured them.

Tony was still hesitant about not having Abby in the picture, but Jethro had assured him that it would be fine. If Abby changed her mind, they would be more than happy to accommodate her, and if she didn't, she would always be in the child's life no matter what- they were family after all.

As they left the doctor's office not long later, Tony slipped the picture of his unborn son or daughter into his wallet with a sense of pride. He was going to be a father. He and Jethro were going to have a baby, and they were going to be together for a very, very, very long time. Nothing in the world could have made him happier.

**The End**

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**A/N: **I hope you liked this, and don't forget to let me know what you think about it and the story in general.


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